this is at greyhound rock just north of davenport on highway 1. it was really amazing.
OMG! this crazy head (that’s what i call these buggers) was SO long, I swear, I usually whirl em around above my head but this one was so long i couldn’t do it.
I wrote this poem for the last “night of mayhem” at the frame, it’s called farewell to mr. and mrs. frametion.
1yard = 12m
4 = 48m
4.5 = 54m
within the walls it begins
2400 square feet
a quarter of an acre?
rainbow lights that dance?
there’s a tangible unrestricted reality
which presents itself within these walls
and pushing its way out there
where the taste really begins.
were we to stand three hundred and twenty four acres tall
like an avatar tree
destined to fall
sad, seemingly so, at first
yes, but building up for final test,
which begins with one single question.
where to go now?
but lo and be ever happy to hold
that the walls have picked up and they are walking
and your walking
and they start talking to you.
everyone thinks your crazy but you tell them
they can’t say anything cause the’ve never been to the frame
they haven’t seen the evoluTION first hand,
they haven’t tasted the CRUX of the matter.
and you tell them like the 500 year old chinese grandma inside of you once said
“the frame is a state of mind”
a way of being with it’s center being a disease
it starts in your heart and burns
it’s a plague of human happiness
i am here to caress, gently stroke and
eventually swallow the world but it’s a big one
and i can’t swallow it alone.
as we pick up our wharehouse bodies
and take them with us we must trust
that enough mouths open
wide enough for us to swallow the world
with peppermint perfection
like john the baptist, only placed in a 9 year old girls body,
who fights like bruce lee