sure, Ashland smoulders under a smog-red sun, but it’s a sunny decade: cold-war icicles melting, green, grassy, manicured yet groovy. Yes, all you Dada daddies: All is high:
Among the wise it seems agreed that 'mid the anarchy of over-modern humanity, there are many promising seeds which may survive the silicon storm and (with any luck)
like bulb-drawn idealist moths daring to again dance and convulse: fairy-dust flying off our Dada wings as we box by the night light of reaching aluminum aesthete arms
