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Ode to David Bowie

wake up you sleepyheads! there are pancakes a-plenty and worms for everyone if you haven't wheels, hitch a ride, but dammit, get there. when you get there, you'll always get yourself, everywhere you turn. everything wiggles and writhes, misery and wonderment. if we are not marveling (as starfruit wonders at itself) then the writhing begins the trouble is, we writhe so well and so thoroughly that we think it is normal. And we do it so subtly that no one can even see it. It's pure silliness. Keep digging holes in the ground, there are microbes in there that will buy you more happiness than molly. alternatively, there's the powerball. Take your chances, on stakes stacked a million miles high. ~ Pay attention. you have ceased to see it, but you keep going awol on yourself. keep sending yourself to the light. or me. or anybody. Send somebody to the light. The light is lonely if no one reaches toward it. David, my sweet friend, of endless unruliness and mirth, may you bathe in metta and mycelium, limericks and light. May you swoon endlessly, as I have, basking in your poetry. Look out my window, what do i see? crack in the sky and a hand reaching down to me ~ Thank you for all of it. Mostly for the love. For the gentleness. gentleness cleans the soul - love will clean your mind and make you freeeeeee

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