ZEBRA

kiss me, flick your cigarette and then kiss me, kiss me where your eye won’t meet me, meet me where your mind won’t kiss me, flick your eyes at mine and then hit me, hit me with your eyes so sweetly

a vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
couples naked race down by it’s quiet side
and we laugh like soft, mad children
smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
the music and voices are all around us.
choose they croon the ancient ones
the time has come again
choose now, they croon
beneath the moon
beside an ancient lake
enter again the sweet forest,
enter the hot dream,
come with us.
everything is broken up and dances.

in that year, we had an intense visitation of energy, when radio dark night existed and assumed control, and we rolled in it’s web, consumed by static and stroked with fear, we were drawn down long from a deep sleep and awakened at dayfall by a worried gardener, and made to be led through dew wet jungle to the swift summits
‘or looking the sea.

before sunset