FROM A HATCHBACKS COPILOT CHAIR

those heavy cloud banks
shouldering low 

over the hill i know

i wish they were
the distant mountains
they pretend to be

& we could climb them
past the ash tree line

packs on our backs

& camp there
free of grit & kipple

in the shape of strings

MAYBE SOMEONE CAN EXPLAIN TIME

 

'we all need a fix 

at times like this

but doesnt it feel good

to stay alive ?'

gene clark

plays his songs

in my mind

like its the only gig that pays he wants

~


gene clark died

just as i found him

in the sam goody cassette tape days

auto reverse !

remember that ?