Oh World

Oh world? how sick and weary I feel? but I still want to dance with
you! I want to glide through the air and swim in the sea. I would like
to be a sea anemone? oh how I would like to be a sea anemone, opening
and closing to the heartbeat of the world. And how many new frontiers
there are for a lone pair of claws scuttling across the floor of an out
of the way sea. Oh, yes, you wanton, modern world, I would like to
build your sky-scrapers?all lotus flowers, I would make them all lotus
flowers. And I would teach you to sing like a lion? to chase the
African lionesses? to play and create. Yes, play and create all day in
the coffee houses. There really is no more important question than what
type of drink to have? to flavor your thoughts and discourses. An
Indian Chai with a shot of espresso?...the bold spirit of Europe mixed
with the ancient focus of India?to wash away the needless complications
of the drunken monkey mind. Or a Boysenberry Latte, the fruitful melody
of a new America...quite breaking from the meter of the bombastic
conductor to swell forth, athletic and strident. I should like to be a
lizard, bathing in the sun of Zion. There is no time for a lizard and
neither hot nor cold. What sort of painting should a lizard commit to
canvas? Something very modern, very modern I'm sure. And I should very
much like to make a movie? nothing but swirling vistas and triumphant
music? somber cinematography and psychedelic animation. The Jurassic
Fish will give his discourse, the Platypus will explicate upon her
position. And to see the cities of the future: the intergalactic
cuisine, the simple and vital art, every pedestrian a thinker, thinking
of yet another tomorrow, even a new frontier! I should like to be drunk
again upon the art of the honey bees?order, disorder?rant then haiku,
games, music and love with you. We're dancing and spinning, destroying
and creating; we hate?but we hate but in play. For depressed as I
feel?I still feel the beat?calling me?pulling me onto to my feet to
dance with this decadent age?and to perform once again on the
flattering stage. And I shall be the star, though I shall not do a
thing. I will play a great redwood and Orpheus will play his reed
beneath me, the nymphs will dance around me, the lovers will romp and
carve their initials in me, Romeo shall hide in my shade and lament the
coming day, great Antony, that great merry warrior-poet, shall take his
life beneath me, and all this me will feed and feed and I shall and
grow and grow till I quite over-tower the stage, a new world wonder, a
dendrite personality cult, for I can't keep it in, I've gotta let it
out?why?Why not?!