(no subject)

[crypticsquirrel]

(For alive as birds, as alive as the worlds within us, there came to me the sounds of trombones and trumpets, the cries of saxaphones; the joined voices of frogs and turtles and grey doves singing, The people who know my magic have filled the land with smoke; there came to me the voices of wolves making music at the moon. Water spanked against the bow of a ship and a fish spanked the surface of a lake with the side of it's body and a rainbow spanked the ground and a traveling boy spanked a drop of spittle to tell him which way to go and a spanked baby squinched it's face and opened it's throat; and there came the huge voice of an orchestra singing with it's whole massive heart; and the room filled with the smokey trail of one single voice rising and rising and rising over all of these forays of sound. Trucks jammed gears and factory whistles blew and somewhere a tire exploded and somewhere a firecracker loudly spent itself and a lover whispered 'again' and a child squalled and the voice rose and rose and for a short time I was unaware that I could not see, but then I could again.)

Howdy ladies and assholes. I'm leaving, byebye. I think nine days alone in the mountains will do me all kinds of wonderful, maybe obtain some sort of sanity. If that's possible.

Long days and pleasant nights.