On days like today…wet, thick air, cold,damp,
wet…I get lonesome for July.
Three woodstoves roaring.
Green lights, incense, candles
I like a Hot Lubowski….(a bath, with a Splif)
Barricade the doors and windows, against the Cold.
And the Gray, lifeless Light.
“Cave it in.”, I said.
Green and yellow-orange light, inside.
Chase the chill from my toes.
Barometer stuck on Low, so relatively Painless…
More so from the Vacation…
I’ll hafta get more wood, soon.
…and no longer be nekkid.
Bitches Brew, Sessions.(thanks, Mike, wherever you r )
I require a Butler.
Salary = Cooking Advice.
The occasional exhalation of Wisdom, perhaps.
Qualifications include; a Secret Identity,(preferably “Masseuse”!)
Adept at choosing which Wood to bring in, to where.
Tolerance for Unorthodoxy…as well as Casual Nudity.
X-Mas Bonus, consisting of year round informal instruction in Philosophy, History, Science,Mythology, and their interactions, through Time.
Apply within…the Cave, down there…(it’s OK, he doesn’t bite).
Expenditure of wood; Justified.
Amfortas runs the Voodoo down…
A Bass Clarinet.
Jolly Roger/King Death, above the door to the Library.
Shadows make it innerestin…all my Junk.
Coffin-Table, [on wheels now!]
Pop’s Desk. Gagoo’s Stuff, everywhere.
I need more Pinter Stuff to strow about…hang from the rafters.
Put in crannies.
I have WW2 postcards from the Pacific, from Pop.
Nada, from Papaw.
Stinking of Incense and Ganjah.