For Terence
Peculiar and proud.
"Say it!" said the mushrooms
Say it loud and true
Don’t withhold the torrent of words
Don’t withhold a shred of truth—
If it’s good and beautiful
or even ugly and grotesque
Don’t withhold the iridescently infinitized arabesque
or the humorously frightening alien burlesque
McKenna McKenna McKenical DMT elves
With pointy ears and electric shears
To cut your ego’s grip.
Torrents of terror
when the fabric is rent
A tear rents
The media’s mechanical trance
And words flow like lava
with pyroclastic psychedelocution.
Words point like fingers
waving like old friends
From the future.
Pointing—over there!
Right inside you!
To Logos, the Cosmic Loom
Weaving a paisley DNA Milky Way fabric
To re-weave the fabric the
Terror has torn.
He won’t withhold a shred of love
Because it re-weaves the fabric
In every dimension. Ultimately. Simply.
Fractally. Creatively.
His Art is to form the instrument of
his mouth in such a shape
That echoes of awakenings outside of time
Arrive and take residence in our hearts
Never to leave us
But to encourage our own weird way—
Buy an artist’s work, you feed them for a day
Inspire an artist’s creativity
It’s the soul’s lifetime feast.
Thanks for the banquet!
With love,
ALEX GREY