parcelrefinedIt was a slow motion afternoon
A bubble in suburbia of
flying teapots and stars
as he, I don’t know,
showed me how to make hash brownies
and couscous
whilst Gong gonged a gong

There were laughs
rocking back not far
not much air expelled
a gentle squeezing of looks
future lines sketched childlike
with a found freedom
we wrapped in stretched mohair

Oh! Bong-0h!
We really didn’t have any dreams
And we didn’t want any dreams
And we didn’t know why
dreams could die.
Or how.
Or when.

Tigger watched
as cars zoomed circular
in front of Auntie She
she soup sucked up
the hours.

Who-he should imagine we died
when I left, closed the door,
or I took him home
In my knees, gentle-like
wishing the table scratch
wouldn’t matter or chime a
life, time of eyes smiling.

In memory of Daevid Allen.
His music played a massive moment and resounding emotion in my life. Respect the Gnomes.

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