counterculture mudgards

jonesy spins an intermediate dub in the mix
mind-bending parasites gyrate in psychedelic ardor
the postmistress breaks into the varsity rag
all those sprawled out in mouth-breathing stupor
eulogize the pogo in a sundae of sundays
it’s 1965 all over again
but with a dearth of hope
with too many dayglo counterculture mudguards

What I’m Reading:

It seems I have lost the ability to perceive movement. To get a grip on light.
The people in the kitchen. Gangling. Unclear.

— Latif Askia Ba / “6 février”