What a day for a daydream expectations What a sky of love and torment, what a day to be the walrus. What a day for an age of miracle and wonder, what a day for having it all. What a day for whiskey and funerals, what a day to fall in love, what a day to be a day tripper, what a day to ride on a mystery train. What a day for conflagration, what a day for fornication, what a day for due repentance, what a day to declare independence. What a day for crazy dumbfound bitch ass motherfuckers, what a day to put a red dress on. What a day for Long Tall Sally, what a day for Anarchy, what a day for floating free. What a day for a rainbow, what a day for shooting the president. What a day to die with your boots on. I was thinking about burning the TV; I was thinking about making it fly, flaming from the roof of the Shires car park, I was thinking about Australia, I was thinking about a poetry scam. I was using words, I was using tools, I was using socks to keep my hands warm, I was using anything I could score. I was in Love with the rock 'n' roll world, I was in love with Sister Wray (just like she said), I was in love with the shores of Samarkand, I was in love with myself. I was dreaming of plastic fantastic, I was dreaming about standing next to your fire; I was dreaming about tearing the playhouse down, I was dreaming about barbed wire love. I was driving for Las Vegas, I was looking for Bobby Mc Ghee, I was driving along with William Blake, I was driving the people wild. And I was turning you on in a wired up, strung out night, I was turning you on in a railway carriage, I was turning you on with the tip of my tongue, I was turning you on with just a glance. I was living it up in a full blown Burroughs nightmare, I was living it up with Nosferatu, I was living it up breaking the law, I was living it up sinking the war machine. And I was seeing you on Mount Sinai, I was seeing you through the eye of a needle, I was seeing you dancing naked at a Beltane fire, I was seeing you on an ivory tower. I was feeling groovy, I was feeling smart, I was feeling like 'fuck 'em' I was feeling like the man. And I was drowning in sinking shifting sands, I was drowning in honey and sweet sensimilla, I was drowning in a sea of Tamla Motown, I was drowning every Sunday afternoon. I was tuning in to sweet vibrations, I was tuning in to Villiers Terrace, I was tuning in to the flames in your mouth, I was tuning in to bass beats and bass. And I was walking like the King of New Walk, I was walking like doing the strut, I was walking like Daniel in the lions' den, I was walking on the fucking water. I lost my reason that season, I lost my mind to a bitter sweet angel, I lost my keys somewhere in the blackout poetry by Adrian wallace