lasercave | fine tangible and intangible media

Open tunnels, mounds of food, the friend under the mountain, who slobbers, who is swimming, who has been a model, who has been invited ahead of time, to the war game sorcery of the sick, who lose their hair in artic battles for the soul, or at least for feeling, Jonas, the sound healer, its time to learn Hebrew, but I’ll settle for some devanagari script for the time being, and take a place within the fantasy halls of greatness and certainty, beside the foreign containers, open to blazing impressions of ghat and ghee, tree topped mist, amused faithfully in the dim-gray twilight, a sorceress, captures me in the dream country, amidst a halo of stoplights and excuses about the flavor of roller coasters, a scifi conference, a get rich quick pyramid, a marry her or marry her, in which the offering of sensuality is suddenly revealed beneath the embers of the playground of the world. I ALWAYS MOVE LIKE THIS, I lie. I carry her piggyback, erupt blossoming into the crystal snaking waterways of upside down heaven, all black and silver, illustrious scales gazing through a splintered blooming ladder into an echoless outside chamber, which contains in its walls the glorious spells of our undoing, the greatest gift imaginable, to be eaten alive by that silver river as it slides through space, the mighty KALI GANDAKI.