Thick clouds with wings of leather
scour over heavens smooth atmosphere
they seek to coat the womb of the earth
with cool bohemian dreams of grandeur tread
Off to inhale this red Indian scent that does linger so elegantly
Crawl into the radius of my Mandala
Sit for sale in this wet weather
Flee on the westerly winds
to greet the eastern rising of the circle serpent
This flaming golden ball
reveals the burning in the loins of the gods
I pray they resurrect me from this Persian death
& deliver me from these subterranean bed/head games