A poem I wrote back in college while flying high on peyote one night, circa 1972 or thereabouts.
Wails in the Halls of Laundry. A Slap On the Ass and I'm born again. (Full title. Too many charactors for the OS title allowance.)
Note that God holds out his hand, and heed the whistlestops.
I spoke to Jesus through a cloth of thinly veiled marginal thoughts.
"Mankind" he said, "is cloning around. Self causation is his goal."
I refuse to be my father in a world given over to Christmas shopping.
Or, if you prefer, the Avett Brothers performance of "Laundry Room" at the 2010 Bonneroo Music Fest in Tennessee.


Salon.com
Comments
I could have been there, though. I worked with a guy for 12 years who built a house on the same road the Bonneroo Music Fest is held on, and everyone who lives on that street gets free tickets and he has invited me down for it, some time. It's a ways to go to Middle Tennesse but one day I want to take him up on it. And after seeing this clip and all the energy and how into it the crowd was, I wish I was there for this one.
Thanks for the comment.