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Mar 2019
Playing sax in the
entry way to
hospital-calming-green-ceramic tiled public showers at Venice Beach
With truest imaginable singin'-in-the-showers acoustic response

You're there. Explore. You can't break nothing. Jus' do
Be do be do sings the sax you can
Imagine
The rest.

Questive, eh? Holy separate day. Live and learn.
Here a little there a little first step here first step there
Right right right don't get up tight
Jesus it's that cab fare with Fred Newton telling it
Never mind. You had to be there, then.

Cell-splitting, we mentioned that right? That is real where I am. Is it real where you are?

Fine-tuning, yes,
fine squared like one extremely fine frequency at the speed of
Light squared
By birth, nat-ive-ure-hol-y-istic tuned
In you
Forever

Can you hear me now? God is. That is all now. Listen.

Still.
Still? How long?
That long.
How far?
From here to where? Or
When, one may suppose, I suppose, so any one may.
To the first position, past first, turn and go the other way
an other way.

Who knows? If one is lost, here every one begins finding and finding forever.
We never stop,
But we rest. True rest. I think that is the idea trust is built on.
True rest. The Platonic Ideal upon which trust among men is formed.
"there remains a rest for the people of light and substance"

Start here.
This can't be the beginning. Ohkeh?
Here then, at the period.
Starting over too late is common, fret not.
Ye know what? I t makes no difference who you are when you wish upon a star.
That is alluding, right? All lude and no work, in sin you wait.

Wake up. Look around. You remember getting into this book.
And now, this book is is all there ever is.
Summertime and the livin' is
Ease-ie.

I found my page, oh
my chapter, oh, more,

my volume in life's book. Fancy meeting you.
Syl Primous, wounded 101st, homeless, lost his VA bene. He set the first scene. Maybe the best tenor sax in Phoenix, when he's got his chops.
Ken Pepiton
Written by
Ken Pepiton  76/M/Pine Valley CA
(76/M/Pine Valley CA)   
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