Now here I am
In Las Margaritas
Cuddled up in
My morning tent
Last night was mad
A sudden sunset urge
To go find some peyote
But all I found
Was a massive lightning storm
Some rain
And the experience of
Wandering in the dark desert
Getting wet
And seeing lightning go
Ka-boom!
Right in my face
(One time I start the count
Got to "Missi-"
And then the thunder crashed
I guess that meant it was half a mile away
And forked too
And kind of frightening
In all that open desert)
In any case
I make it to my tent
Find enough dry things to sleep
And now I wonder...
I'm thinking about England lots
After basically forgetting it
Most of the past nine months
Can't decide about eating peyote
Sometimes yes, sometimes no
Skeptical about all this "plant medicine" crap
About dust-scrabble Injuns
And the peyote so cute anyways
Not really sure I can cut em up
And sink my fangs into em
But...
If they want it
If Spirit wants it
I guess we will
In Las Margaritas
Cuddled up in
My morning tent
Last night was mad
A sudden sunset urge
To go find some peyote
But all I found
Was a massive lightning storm
Some rain
And the experience of
Wandering in the dark desert
Getting wet
And seeing lightning go
Ka-boom!
Right in my face
(One time I start the count
Got to "Missi-"
And then the thunder crashed
I guess that meant it was half a mile away
And forked too
And kind of frightening
In all that open desert)
In any case
I make it to my tent
Find enough dry things to sleep
And now I wonder...
I'm thinking about England lots
After basically forgetting it
Most of the past nine months
Can't decide about eating peyote
Sometimes yes, sometimes no
Skeptical about all this "plant medicine" crap
About dust-scrabble Injuns
And the peyote so cute anyways
Not really sure I can cut em up
And sink my fangs into em
But...
If they want it
If Spirit wants it
I guess we will
...
(Same day, 7.07pm)
I went off in the morning
Left my things out to dry in the sun
Walked half an hour into the desert
And found a bunch of peyote
Maybe 15 good-sized buttons
Probably enough to do the job
I sat on my blanket
Talked to it
Talked to the desert
Tried to feel the right way
And...
There was no "yes"
No compelling urge
And even thinking about cutting one
Filled me with revulsion
The idea of beheading such a cute small thing...
It'd be like slicing up a kitten
So I left it
Packed up my stuff
Departed strange Las Margaritas
And got back on the road
And a couple of easy rides later
I was in high mountain Real de Catorce
(About 2800 metres, I'm told)
Not quite what I expected...
I'd been thinking little backwater oasis
Some peaced out wise gringoes
Maybe a few genuine mystics
And perhaps even a better peyote situation
But actually it's just
Rubble and Mexican tourists
Shivering in the rain
Stumbling along cobbled streets
Past tat and hoodies
Though the church is groovy
With flashing lights around the giant Jesus
And a sound system playing a churchy version
(Still in English)
Of that
"Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes"
Song
While an old woman shouts out her prayers
And breaks into hymns
And everything's all colourful and gory
It's an odd little place
I'll stay the night
I'll ponder what to do next
Whether to return to Las Margaritas
Or maybe even awesome San Miguel de Allende
Or - shock horror! -
Investigate this growing feeling to
Get on a plane toEngland
(But what the hell would I do there?)
(And, anyways
That feeling don't necessarily mean
What I might think it means
Sometimes
Often
It just means I'm ready for the new thing
The new unknown thing
Whatever that might be)
(Truly "giving up")
So
That's where we're at
Typing with thumbs
On a phone I almost sold yesterday
(To disconnect)
And sitting after four gorditas
And an earlier nap
In my hundred peso hotel
And thinking still about that nice thought/realisation I had
When saliring from peyote
Which seemed sort of incredible
But I can't quite put into words
Left my things out to dry in the sun
Walked half an hour into the desert
And found a bunch of peyote
Maybe 15 good-sized buttons
Probably enough to do the job
I sat on my blanket
Talked to it
Talked to the desert
Tried to feel the right way
And...
There was no "yes"
No compelling urge
And even thinking about cutting one
Filled me with revulsion
The idea of beheading such a cute small thing...
It'd be like slicing up a kitten
So I left it
Packed up my stuff
Departed strange Las Margaritas
And got back on the road
And a couple of easy rides later
I was in high mountain Real de Catorce
(About 2800 metres, I'm told)
Not quite what I expected...
I'd been thinking little backwater oasis
Some peaced out wise gringoes
Maybe a few genuine mystics
And perhaps even a better peyote situation
But actually it's just
Rubble and Mexican tourists
Shivering in the rain
Stumbling along cobbled streets
Past tat and hoodies
Though the church is groovy
With flashing lights around the giant Jesus
And a sound system playing a churchy version
(Still in English)
Of that
"Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes"
Song
While an old woman shouts out her prayers
And breaks into hymns
And everything's all colourful and gory
It's an odd little place
I'll stay the night
I'll ponder what to do next
Whether to return to Las Margaritas
Or maybe even awesome San Miguel de Allende
Or - shock horror! -
Investigate this growing feeling to
Get on a plane to
(But what the hell would I do there?)
(And, anyways
That feeling don't necessarily mean
What I might think it means
Sometimes
Often
It just means I'm ready for the new thing
The new unknown thing
Whatever that might be)
(Truly "giving up")
So
That's where we're at
Typing with thumbs
On a phone I almost sold yesterday
(To disconnect)
And sitting after four gorditas
And an earlier nap
In my hundred peso hotel
And thinking still about that nice thought/realisation I had
When saliring from peyote
Which seemed sort of incredible
But I can't quite put into words
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