I caught a homeless man jerking off
in front of the Erotic Fantasy. This
meant that my soul would never
find its way back home again. You’d
want the rest of the story, but it gets
interrupted, like most things. Life
is complicated like that. So I keep
walking, looking in at the young
motorcycles and parachutes. Then, I
spot a bird. It is ever so slowly flying
in from a great distance until it wish
fully scoops me up and carries me
away to Shambhala. It’s loud here,
it makes me drunk. This, another
never-ending story with quite a lot of
dust and sadness exacerbated by
the stormy weather. Please come.
It was only yesterday I was taken up,
gently, by your cool metallic talons.
