Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

judiih I saw your post in there. mt & the Dame are going to a party. They promised me dancing girls. I don't know where New York is. I don't know how to get her to you. I never intend to call her. Everybody says she's hot but I can afford to pass as there is the scent of dancing girls on the air.

Sure, I'll share mingo.
It'll be a treat in New York City.

You're too much Dame and thank you!

Fields of holding back the years in a northern town. Goin back for a dolphin's smile take it easy everybody wants to rule a long cool woman in a black dress on Valentine's day. Follow you down Copperhead Road follow me to stories of the painted desert. Come, smooth operator, sail away with a spirit looking for the summer for some paper on fire for some Norwegian wood to turn me on I'm a radio stand by me you can call me Al. I'll call you Josephine. We can duet Slave to Love. One toke over the Mendocino county line will get us there. You've a tight connection to my heart as I go down to the river to pray that things don't fly away if it were up to me but no one rides the storm that don't pay one day no matter what else is changed for the boys of summer who don't fear the reaper even for the things that do change. They are always surprised at finding the stroke of midnight where they expected not to fall in love with you. They thought they were having a pony on their boat. They thought they were waiting on a lady. On the sweet fire. They got instead the Spirit in the Sky with an Indian summer on the back pages that only the lonely can read while taking the chicken train down into the tunnel of love. Somebody's gonna cry a river.

nice rap, mingo-man... real nice.

you can call me Al. I'll call you Josephine.

"Al, I gots two pennies in my pocket, ready to sail."
mingo, what a feeling you caught in it.
Enjoyed, a pleasure.

imitation the sincerest form of flattery?

very very much enjoyed it mingo
_____________

u turn me on I'm a radio but who needs the static
hurry saigon saigon static in the attic
hey big boss man it ain't me babe
fear strikes out ted williams tips his hat
ghost riders trying to catch the devil's herd
mountain dew rocky top white lightning streaks the sky
the devil beats his wife with a silver chain
jerimiah always had some mighty fine wine.
love takes a fearless heart
is that a grave before me?
all is well

Thx mt, Dame & Jack. We are being buried up here under a persistent storm system. Snow snow snow. It must be January. Thx all for reading.

ear canals tingle
sweet cilia whispers
message received

Hi ya judih!

It has been snowing for four days and nights now. My snowstorm lives in a carfish that lives in an ever greening captive pond. My name is not Mo-Ham-Med. Sounds like a field medical unit don'it ?

Short concise razor edged lines. That's poetry. The best of it gives you new eyes. We should all give new eyes to one another. Couldn't touch a gift like that now would ya ?

My grandmother called certain things "gifts". I was there the day she said, "We have the same gift, I have it in one way and you have it in another." Praise was hard for my father's mother. Statements like this were as close as she got.

It's actually eight degrees warmer today than yesterday. Yesterday it was 15 degrees. Today it is 23 degrees. Winter is a time and a place of narrow extents, thin intensities, precision nuances. Winter is when your own tracks can be seen, when ya can't go anywhere without showing where ya been coming from.

If all my teeth fell out at this moment they would look like hard little igloos in the snow.

mingo, we must live close to each other. This bitter winter, I feel it to the bones, it's so cold. I think it takes a 30 minute shower just to start to warm up. It really gets to me, someday I'm gonna search warmer weather. I can dream freezy temperatures, too easy, too scary.

My grandmother called certain things "gifts". I was there the day she said, "We have the same gift, I have it in one way and you have it in another." Praise was hard for my father's mother. Statements like this were as close as she got.

I likes your grandmother very much.

Hi Dame! My grandmother was a dame. Fashioned by the finger of God. Then He loosed her into the world. I'm not sure she ever understood that.

Literature is looking out of
a half past midnight window

the land of Nod
is just as long
as it is wide