Moving on…

I sit half asleep, suspended between Sunday and Monday; my mind is either still or empty waiting to engage a new universe, which slowly begins to spin out of the back chambers of my imagination, out of the stirring of the soul; butterflies hover, then float on the whim of a brease up over the…

the peace of all mankind.

A riff cuts the cloying air, and the crowd comes alive, as he talks through chords driving the rhythm, the crowd clapping in time, as he tells them to rebell, lets march on the evil that holds us back, lets have the dream again, lets make thing right, for the sake of our world and…