08/18/2013 12:22 AM= 7
-Listening to the Spanish Bob Dylan;
the Mystery Man Sixto Rodriguez—
music industry not good business for him—
South Africa loves him…
-I remember the streets I grew up in,
Rosemead Ca…my three best friends—
I will never forget them; we were street
boys learning the streets and avenues of
our city…
-Sleep is catching up then fades away like
mist; an image in the fog as it walks away
to the nothing it came from…
-Mr. Tambourine man delivers dreams in
nine clouds; the tenth cloud belongs to me—
Sugar man to the ladies I cross path with—
one is delivering the labor of my fruits…
12:39 AM= 15
-‘Crucify Your Mind’ begins to play;
I contemplate the crucifixion of my mind to
poetry, the crucifixion of my body to the
night, and soul unforgiving—
Was dying on a cross at 33 necessary?
(waiting a minute)
12:44 AM= 11
-If you’re wondering the sequence of the time
annotated—simply the degree of my thoughts;
illuminated thinking…
7+15+11= 33
Excuse me while I inhale inspiration; oil burns
slower in dirty pans, pot is never too far away,
a skip of a cloud; as a matter of fact my buds
are tightly sealed…
“Who was Jane S. Piddy?”
This has been another moment in the life of…
Do I need to say?
12:56 AM= the end of this piece…
to be continued
at
the
witching
hour.