"THE LITTLE LOST POET LEAVES HIS CELESTIAL POST WITH AN UNEARTHLY IDEA CLUTCHED TO HIS SHAGGY HEART."
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Songs don't do it for me... and good words are hard to come by tonight... Sitting in new, marble-washed jeans, i'd be happier, i know, in my own skin. White plum blossom is subdued to silhouettes in fading light and i am distracted by a photo of a spry Nanao Sasaki...padmasana in just a pair of shorts, singing with amigos...Suwanose Island, 1967...And it is now hard to muster applause for those english folk-revivalists as i sit, quietly looking into Nanao's eyes...trying to catch a glint of how it is to live on this planet earth...2013....... i will collect poems and keep right-on to the end of the road.... Aah...it'll be bryter later...just you wait and see..bluebirds, plum blossoms and all....(8pm...Golden GOJI Hermitage.)