Take the midnight flight on the silver feathered Condor. To the tip top of the tree colored turquoise by sunset. Here you will board the white butterfly brightly, geniously feathered to the city of angels. Where people wear no shoes and walk through the whiteness of sky like sunshine. Here, you will disembark. Early morning. Clouds colored purple by sunrise. People not yet emerged into puffy white streets of pre-rain.
Here you will exchange your wristwatches for ideas and your clothes for sleepless nights of impossible dreams.
Rise, step out onto/into freshly cut and feathered clouds full of early virgin sun. Walk the sequined pathway to the edge of enlightenment/end of cloud. Look out. Down. Through the smoggity smog thickness of uncared-for ozone. The people are not yet awake. Find the first golden dust particle ray of sun. and ride. Ride that fucker into universe. Ride it into darkness and away from all that has time and holds meaning. Into boundless energy of star and genius galaxy.
Stop.
Dismount ray of light, onto blue grey moon. Step into dust. Onto something of life. Take a deep breath of no worry and stardust. (we are all recycled stardust, afterall) Smoke a slow cigarette. Light it with a blue flame. Open your eyes, your mind, your lungs. Look around. See nothing. Do not be afraid. Step onto edge of existance. Gulp, Grasp Fresh, never before seen star, and dream. Just Dream.
