Sir Lawrence of Placitas, I think we should plan a gathering. Have a poetry festival just like the old days. Do you think we could do that? Someplace neutral like the Planet Pluto, or Drum Hadley's billion acre ranch, or some enchanted forest so sweet and juicy that we all ride the fifth dimension right through the Third Butthole of God. And that has got to be some fucking ride if you know what I mean. Even his/her butthole has got to be beautiful. That's your next assignment . . . your next pome to write . . . since I am younger than you and more alert and definitely have a bigger dick and from all the polls taken much more goofy than you, then I can give you this assignment pronto tonto butthole bonanza babies, and that what I'm thinking about this morning as I write to you and I've even written two emails before you so I'm on a roll and I'm live-serious about this gathering and you could even have it at your place, or on the end of buddha's dick and we'll feast on Buddha sperm and snails and hang on to your S-car-go babies because it's rendezvous time for us ol' Beat/Hippy Fandango Farts and I'm thinking I've got a least twenty good years left so we've got lots to do and lots to write but we ain't gathering like we're suppose to be. I know, let's go half way and meet in Moab, Utah. Or, get out your divining rod (no, not that you you preee-vert extortedium) and wherever half way between Placitas and the Grand Salt Lick that's where we'll rendevous and we'll have a poetry reading and we'll film it and put it on Any Tube You Like and we’ll call it the New Wave of Fingerling Poetry, so get out your compass Larry G. and let's get going and quit diddling the dawg . . . . because time is running out and I'll tried to get a hold of Drew Wagnon the other day and found him in a rest home in Bloomington, Indiana, so that's what is in store for you . . . but not a rest hope but a rant home a chant home a panting home a choir home and polish the buddha home and fuck home a suck home a rhyme the chime home a garbooze home a chicken friend sonnet home a ding dong home a key of A home a gluten free home a elevator home a sweetness home at our next rendezvous home and that's it for now . . . buddha bananas to you . . . Blind Potato Sky
/from Gino Sky, 2011, Salt Lake City, Utah
/love from your ancient contemporary, Larry
Love prevails in the freeing bonds of poets and all free spirits, all free speech.