I was at a musical festival in Chicago
when I witnessed true beauty
in a portable toilet.

All around we were having fun,
sweating, bleeding, dancing,
doing what humans are meant to do
and not what we think
we’re meant to do,
but following what our instincts
tell us to do,
and that is
the natural response,
the correct response,
the human response.

In that toilet in Chicago
I saw beauty at its finest,
and that was a ***
of one dollar bills
drowning in a pool
of ****.

We were above money,
above commercial jingles,
above the tyranny
                      that
                    is
           social
    order.
We were above the clouds
and more so, we were above
ourselves
and everything
the rest of the world stood for.

We did not need possessions
to possess us,
nor did we need
a clean bowl
to *****.

And standing there
in the center of
Humanity’s soul
I took my turn
and ******
on Washington’s face.

I stand at the very edge of tomorrow
looking back at yesterday.
Holding that moment clutched in my hand,
when night first turns to day.
I can see the sun, the moon, the stars
like jackstones at my feet.
While by the door, time just stands
tapping out a beat.
The universe yawns and stretches
across the vast, dark sea.
Knowing this long, lazy dawn
will last an eternity.
My eyes are drawn to the shuffling sound
of time as he moves on.
Always forward. Always forward.
Always, all alone.
Through the doorway lies the future.
Endless miles of narrow halls.
With windows of opportunity
lining every wall.
It’s here and now that really counts.
For nothing else is real.
The past is dead and ground to dust
under times never ceasing wheel.
The future is a waking dream
we act out every day.
Built on mist and held in place
by nothing more than faith.
Slowly, slowly I open my hand
to the purple, pink, predawn.
Knowing that everything before this moment
is forever gone.