En cours de chargement...
Invocation. Musai, this offering, that with each line of the words, crushed-rock dust is cracked and planed down hard upon the consonants, whereas the fine dust, the lighter-than-air, it flows throughout the vowels, it swirls a slow smoke loop or two inside the hollow of an o or an aand then released, and away, spark-trails drift diagonal across five sun-beams, and away... I had gotten a first-class education in poetry and was en route to an academic career.
I had had an overwhelming spiritual experience: the presence of Goddesses and the Gods, primarily the Olympians and the Greek Cthonic deities. I needed to be in just the right place to write good poetry about Them. Accordingly, I ran away to Las Vegas. I wanted the mountains...the light...the colors...the ambition... I've been bad at life at times but I'm good at this. You may never be able to unsee Them again.