oh! those days of sweetness. yet nothing different in the particulars.
the same exertions, the same sweat, the same itches unscratchable.
the same drudgery. but a modicum of relative ease--the number of inanities reduced.
the luck of the draw giving me concern and empathy rather than derision when i fall.
the comeraderie of the workaday brethern sweet and simple and stern and mystical.
the sounds of a favorite song come with ease to my mind. and the gods retreat from their strangeness, put on robes of human gentility. and we quaff together under the stars of my imagination. cigarettes shared.
but then the psychadelic dreams and ultra-fluidity begin again and the gods their fiery unearthly aspects resume. and chords begin their denoument. but even that is sweetness too.
the last few dregs of my coffee; the last tiniest sip of my beer.
on a dark desert highway . . .
