. . . And still the pill bugs are pressuring me to write and wrap and sing Oh! by Jingo by
the light of the afternoon Sol whilst nine-headed demons wrestle each other in the dark
alley between my house and your house . . . so let's make virtual space and spend

moneypoints on mushrooms . . . let's get married in this humidity of hubris . . . let's

engage in sword play along the cliffs of insanity, because right now is not quite as real

as we thought . . . we share songs and plan trips and swang on the great vine, gateway
vein . . . play Unicorn Hopscotch, leap across time . . . tame extraterrestrial tigers for

the great psychedelic circus of our dreams . . . yes I dreamt you were sane and I was

not but then forgot . . . this is a great drama, the best of plays, there will be a

background of pain and suffering punctuated by brief moments of ecstasy . . . we camp
in the hidden concrete corners, make up musical games, goading each other on . . . I

love you, yes, i love you though love has worn my tubes out having run through them

for so long...