Earl Bodwin
2008
Feed my stunning apetite
with distorted tracks of a generator.
Resuscitate me in the dimmest light,
my soulmate, friend and gentle waiter!
You slipped into my shifty eyes,
when I hexed myself to the Tavern.
Your glasses couldnt veil or hide,
the same old beloved pattern:
I laugh into the Violin of Midnight,
while we walk-talk in the cold,
“Drone is ...”– Im with you tonight...
And its “ambient”, Ive been told:
Bring me to the tame,
to the post-substance progression,
cause my kind is just the same
as Bodwin and his fashion.
He knows my worshipped tunes,
then watch me how I dance!
Hippiefest of Future Junes,
what a soothing smile– Ill have my chance!
Hes speaking in tongues,
words of obscure descent...
I love to listen and learn,
prehistoric and things more recent.
Two weeks left to nostratic feast:
Invited are him, me, and our gurus!
And an allegory will perish the beast,
who holds me eclipsed behind Eagdurum.
Old fashioned me in an Exos disguise,
Id follow this fellow anywhere,
Oh, old passioned me with reddening eyes,
but genius and delusion always come in pairs.
