Shine your lightbulb you freak
Dance little light bulbs dance. Dance in a glorious procession honoring the ghost of electricity that Mr Zimmerman sings of in his Visions of Johanna. You've got work to do but for now just rest your weary little colorful bulby brains. Participate in the languid worldly dance. Shine a little light tonight but for now just be. Dream of catfish and rummage sales and a howling Texas wind and rattling clotheslines. Listen to the sound of boots clicking with a purposeful walk. Gates opening and horses whinnying. Smell the fucking lilacs and keep the scent buried deep in your filthy lungs. Hopefully there'll be a little AM radio with a crackly distant station blaring the baseball playoffs. Sit and sip a cool drink and wait your turn. Today ignore the orders of General Klinghoffer and do as you please. It's your day. Your time. Your wishes are there hanging like lonely little lightbulbs. Put your fresh little palms on them and feel the energy and suck it into your soul. I'm in Texas Mama. Tejas. Bienvenido a Tejas. Let your light shine and emanate sweet syrupy goodness.