The psychedelic picture

on the cover

of the City Paper

does little to inspire me.


It won’t dredge up

memories of Hot Tuna shows past

and I’ve written Garcia off as Dead

though I keep his visage close.


I won’t wax nostalgic

for acid trips past

be they in mountains of Colorado

or beaches of California


Nobody needs to know

about exactly what kind

of mushrooms I used

to flavor that slice of pizza

drifting along the Damrak


Tripping all night camped

outside Oxford Valley Mall

waiting to buy tickets
to see the Grateful Dead


All that, is so passé anyway

and I’m trying to update

by listening to trendy songs

hailed by critics 

that no one truly likes


I disavow the truth

and embrace the pretense

just exactly the opposite

of why I started in the first place


But who’s gonna know the truth

anymore the way we conceal

all reality from our eyes

It’s never been any further 

than it is right now.




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allets's picture

I Stopped Listening

To contemporary music much after disco and never turned back. I thought to listen to it a few days ago, but that went nowhere. - slc



georgeschaefer's picture

happily the Grateful Dead and

happily the Grateful Dead and Hot Tuna was before disco