When I say
painter, poet, writer, thinker
They look at
me askew as though they have never
Considered
that lifting words left to right
Easy-peasy
lemon squeezy off a page
Could take
you places you’d never seen before,
Let you
travel without moving,
Light up the
fires of that magical misty mystery stuff
Called
Imagination, fly you high yeah man totally
Without even
using drugs man to expanded
And fluid
spaces where you’re unbound
And free to
be in worlds of your own choosing,
Like music,
better than sex, better than chocolate,
Better than
supper in front of the evening news,
And that,
like the local plumbers, carpenters, electricians,
Doctors,
gardeners, barmen, and hotel-keepers,
Every
village really, really, really, really needs one
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| see Seismologik Intelligence |
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