I can get irrationally angry at art, but not science.
Science is just a tool, art can betray you.

the Moon a ship-
gently rides the sea

on the horizon dreams form
allotted their time

black is the colour
as the door opens

a distant star fire
defies the sky.

each sundown i spent at the graveyard
i was just as dead afterwards as you
i was buying time to calculate
that i am sorry for something too

Last night I dreamt in body, not in mind
No images or sounds remained at wake
Left only with the remnants of a hug
Warm gift to me from longtime missing shade
To leave me love, then reconvey to grave

Last night I dreamt in washing, not in sense
A cooling rain that left me pink and clean
Of soaking drops that ran on face and limb
And drying cloth that softly followed rain
Fresh for the world to leave its dirt again

Last night I dreamt in campfire warmth and milk
Puff-swirling clouds hope-floated me in silk
In wrapping blankets, cuddled me with care
In loving presence lifting me like air
With messages from those no longer here
To spend the dark and morning disappear

Of motorcycles
and October 29th
Macon , Georgia
1971
Everything came undone
Stunned !