Shape ‘n send forw’d the currents riv’ring by! With your time-warped scraps the bed doth lie suffused!
Flame stands in its ungentle passing.
Nurtured’s the roots of grass that grows again.
As the sunlight stole away, the counter-culture quarter lit the dusk.
Waves of ways of making artwork from life. Scores of sounds – electronic, acoustic. Walls sprayed with all kinds of colours – dark, bright. Generations giving new life to it.
“I thought we should sit ‘round, relate our stories, friend to friend. We each know something of this place. Let’s share it, this night, face to face.”
Ferry me upriver.
Are you awake already?
No calligraphy you’ll lay that isn’t art.
Now riddle it with chaos: muddied fury lit by mob-borne flame.
Silent morning. Earthly peace. Servant girl re-swaddles.
“Change is the only thing. It’s the only thing there is.”