strange days

have found me, in the steamy Jooly/August vegetation mire of the Gods honest Florida.
Florida of flores, the air hums with ufo insects
in a soft light, after a rain
Sun Maharaj has backed of to chase the beauty on the other side

late summer lacks the flower smells. waterlogged wood. rotting fruit from trees. decomposing flowers. but the air is full of the sweat of the gulf , raining briefly, intensely. like a lovelorn man and a beautiful woman.

these are days in the Void- capital V. Watching 70s flicks on netflix. living in the moment like the greatest of sages. drinking the love of life through the pores, and eyes of course. I should be writing a novel (and I am preparing the ground in ways I suppose), or on an airplane, boat, car, horse, yak, somewhere far away, starting a religion, owning a bar in the bronx, etc. Like John Lennon said, life is what happens while you're making other plans. So my life is to be a shaman to my tribe (me son wife) , and Earth. Im also unemployed as real shamans/sadhus usually are. Channeling the good for the Earthly life forms as well as Uberearthly.