The Fly flies
Here and there
Seeing through the prism
of a thousand eyes
Trying to put it all together
He's thinking he's immortal
He's eating ****
and calling it honey.

He's lingering above the magic funnel,
His companions,
well, they're calling him,
beckoning him
to the feast that never ends

Freedom
or
gluttony

What a flip
What a Fly's dilemma

He's sure he's found eden

Wouldn't you dive
right on in?

He would have made it out again
If it hadn't
been
for that
"One more little wafer".

Now the fly trap
has been rolled up
heading for the dump

He'll still be buzzing
for a while
unlike us
his fate he does not know
Like any fly soul
he keeps telling himself
he must be immortal.

The year
1966.
Manson was on his spree
Hippies chilled the breeze.
Chicks dancing with rubies on hips.
Then came 1967
Hendrix wowed the crowd
Janis Joplins soul came out
Music splashed
Hallucinogenic heaven.
1968, patterns of clothing
Seemed to be from faraway.
It wasn't American to the main stream
Still wouldn't be today.
1969, Woodstock, the time
Of all togetherness, and weightless
Rockers heads filled with dust and buds.
Cities broke to riots
Gangbanging quiets over colors lust!
1970, met grandmammy
Touched the farmers scene.
Found the happy
In the sixties baby in me.
Today, now a mountain boy
On a machine that cuts down anything
In its way.
The farming hand
Making a living off of dirt and hay.
Spit and clay.

In to my eyes she longingly gazes,
for a long moment, disarmingly smiles,
as if I am her first teen age lover
broken in to her room,unawares
and did naughty things,like snatching kisses.
her dad would definitely scold her mother
for permitting such nonsense
without his prior approval,
now that all got wrong, she is perplexed,
what would the people think of her
if they find out all about this?
Her lips I kiss ever so tenderly
to prove that I am still a green horn
in matters of amour, callow and clumsy to boot,
I join in her pretension that we just had
our first vanilla ice cream together,
when we bumped in to each other by chance.

Now the scene changes, she signals
like in one of those school dramas she shone well,
in my ears she whispers, now the coy Indian bride,
who never take liberties without
prior parental approval,
"I just wanted to cheat myself,
for this once, isn't it the last chance
forget for the time being that
we just had an arranged marriage"

I build a road
And stacked up
Some stone.
The fireplace
Is ready for the
Both us, won't
You join me?
I have the softest
Of covers, and
The most comfortable
Pillows, love.

Baby, it's cold outside,
Won't you keep me warm?
I have been waiting too long.

I want to wrap myself in this blanket,
The Fall breeze, good music,
And mellow atmosphere.
I want to drink tonight with a little bit or rain,
A sprinkle of stars, chilly wind,
And a piece of moon shine,
The traffic lights reflected on wet concrete
Bleeding red, speeding yellow,
And fleeting greens,
Lingering on my windshield.
I am not asleep,
But I am not awake either,
I'm doomed to linger
And wander through this season.