My Soul is on Fire

Henry the louse, smoking a joint and listening to the Rolling Stones, home alone in the afternoon ready to do anything that didn’t smell of work.

Thinking about a walk in the desert to collect old Spanish Crucifixes and peyote buttons,  looking for Jesus in the empty expanse finding  odd  flip flops and empty plastic bottles.

The Sun was blazing hot so Henry took off his blue jeans and tossed them in the air,  G-d only knew how he would get back to town, naked no less. Feeling native he took a piss and a dump under a cactus tree, wiping himself with sand such an odd sensation, the sand, itching the anus, nice in a way, he didn’t stop immediately.

Henry lost by nightfall,  navigating by moonlight,  hopelessly looking for his blue jeans, tripping on Coyote remains,  finding sacred peyote buds on downed cactus,  nice and ripe. 

The Peyote would  get him through the night, he had some Mexican Mescal and reefer as well.

He was coming on, dope so sweet he thought. Looking up, the sky opening, as all the colors in the rainbow falling to earth, Henry feeling jubilant, peeking too.

The kid tearing it up, getting funked. The sky raining white crystals that covered the landscape turning matter into saintly energy. 

Henry as usual the mensch fucked up in the desert, feeling absolutely alive and full of love. With open arms reaching the edge of the sphere begging out loud to Creation, howling —

“ Don’t hold back,  lay everything you got on me— oh my soul is on fire —“

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