Monday, December 12, 2005

the caliphate of narnia shall rise again

take a onetime recrider. add some wildwind poetically important rides cross open canadian pastures. make it a language of the holy tongue and pass it on through living soul. flesh of the body made word. this guy made poetry out of the instruments of his soul in the way partch drew up his own instruments to remember his trampin days. we're all better off because of ("blues")...

yes my friends. america's full of excitement for buying things. the archaic insanity of avant gardes turned occult. so enjoy this 70s remix of Whitman's "Song of Myself" in its full on new world, throbbing guttural passionate rolling self.

and here's old bp reading it -- YOU MUST LISTEN TO POME POEM...


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