.
A woman whose name begins with the letter “A” has a full-back Hindu goddess-inspired tattoo
she says is synchronous though I never find out what she means.
Another woman whose name begins with “J” discussing exploring ruminating the meaning of life for a rural Hindu goddess while realizing the tattooed woman I describe is her old friend and yet over the rest of those 4 long, hard-working, save the planet, save our skins nights and days I didn’t continue this or start anew until I had to leave Denver for Boulder.
Getting off the bus at Boulder & greeting a VW bus blaring Jimi Hendrix to a band of hippies sitting standing leaning dancing on the sidewalk.
Spending a week writing about time while immersed in the remnants of the Beats who carve a Buddhist poetic dog-loving ecology out of 60,000-seat-stadium ranting cheering prohibiting UCBoulder.
Beat-dedicated zine welcomes me home reconnecting Anne Waldman readings singings bangings howlings (?) and Neal Cassidy cross-country auto/bus driving beating pranking sledgehammer-tossing on Larimer Street.
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