Note: I found this poem looking through a folder of some of my oldest earliest poems. I think this was written in 1970 – yes I”m that old. I showed it to my “editor” and she said: boy I must have been really stoned! What can I say? I’m throwing it out there just for fun. It would be nice to hear some feedback – a bit psychedelic? I decided to not edit it at all.
Somewhere in the palm of fortune clouds is a gypsy whim of song anywhere in the almost spring thought of a strangers grip lies the pastures vice – security jaws drooling and the passing painted teeth; between the grasping and the nothing through the echoes of its well lies the eternal part in me somewhere lost in unknown pleasure anywhere in quilted grandeur thrown through lands of in and the somehow the one star spinning glass blower from everywhere has sprayed and flayed his breath through all of us between the lushward lyrics he has specially spun casting in some chaos nights I sometimes think I hear him listening to the echoes from his well