Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

pardon me mister
I seem to be lost
I'm looking for that school
where no subject is sacrosanct
no theme taboo
I've traveled a long way sir
I've dreamed of it for so long
it must be wonderful
am I near it mister

am I on the right path
'cause my legs are wobbly

come to think of it
so are my heart and soul
and I'm just fine with commies
revolutionaries, pacifists, beatniks
they're all cool with me as long
as they eschew isms, just please
don't send me down Old Rote Road
'cause I already been there
and I gotta tell ya mister

it's nothin' but a big fat dead end
no, give me that windy city dada
blackboards with graffiti
janitors lecturing alongside unshaven
professors where there is
one big union of stand-up comics
and anything interesting
is apparently dangerous
to the existing order of business

nice one, steve!

I kid you not-- kesey's bus (replica?) was parked a half-block from my house when I got home today! made me think of a bright ocean of possibility.

you woulda thought the 20th Century did quite a number on the IZZMS... all those leveraged tyrants and politicians farting in the wind, all those souls who went down to pick up their gear... name, rank and serial murder and such. but... maybe that's my own imagination.

that's wild about Kesey's bus...it's definitely time for some new ideas, all the old ones are useless....we can't keep going to the dry well, and coming back to tell everyone there is no water....a great time for innovation, for breaking the molds that have cemented our feet....a great time for genuine leaders to emerge from the rubble.....forget about economic trends, pie charts, curves, the stock market, time to raise a little hell, shake things up a bit.......thanx for your insight

yeah, why do I keep getting the sense that this fabulous "pyramid of prosperity" we've built up is teetering ever more dangerously?

... must have been a daydream, kesey's bus. wanted to get a closer look at it. but I went to the store, and when I came back it was gone. it was one of those old buses with a hood that sticks out in front, and all covered in fat colors. . . must've dreamed it. probably wasn't the 1939 original anyway... this one looked like a '50s model or thereabouts...

on the bus
i wave to myself by the curb
no dream

its not all been said or done,
as each moment
anything is that
the culmination
must be different,
know we must claim shit,
its not those before us
its us now
we decide
accept
and pray as it unfolds
unable to be just happy birthdays
but
we can try to make more of them
not saying i am a perveyor of hope
most of the time
but
each little thing helps
so lets help each other
accept each other accepting ourselves
within the maelstrom