Exquisite Corpse - Issue 4
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The Marijuana Dream #Eggplant
a Doc Menlo mint
One day . . . when the Belltown Hemperey still existeth . . . I was walking home and on the way and turned to the left and sed to m'self . . . well I went in . . . I ended up talking to the guy working, who obviously smoked a lot of pot, he was very frazzled-->>((JUST SAY MODERATION))<<--so I left after mebbe buying a card or something (wuzzit the one with the topless women with the boots on 'to do battle for sweet maryjewanna round the world'?) so anyway I happened to have some pot that day (very rare These days, ungk) . . . smoked some and laid down on floor and dreamt of a new way to make that place work . . .

     and it has nothing to do with the earth's hydrological system . . . so there squaT<<

      I walk into the Theatre Blue.  I am the only one there.  I wear all black and hold a double tall soy latte with 'special ingredients' in one hand and a fatly loaded marijuana pipe (of the best new hydro in the other) . . . blue velvet curtains open, music starts out swinging and the dancing ladies come out swinging their hips and legs and plain and big as life can be . . . life-sized, dig . . . then a wise looking old guy in black and white film leans into cam at shot from torso up . . . he is in white stucco building and behind him over veranda a sea whistles peacefully, it's corals stuck down deep in pockets, day, he sex: "Have I got a lot to tell you . . . walking down the street one day . . ." cut to tropical colors landscape re: architecture . . . him walking down hill we see from across st.  Those same colored brightly bldgs mottled gently behind on a bright swanking day and cue reggae music and this film in color, obviously . . . his hands in pockets and his head is down . . . "When the most amazing thing happened to me--" . . . back to black and white and we see a woman sitting in a wicker rocking chair. Barefoot with hairy underarms . . . she sits calmly and waits.  "And I am interested in this story because? . . . . "

     He raises an eyebrow.  Cut to:

     Announcer announces: "Meet the Cosmological FIsh."  We see animated swirls.  "Colorful in every environment.  All his pistons are working.  Note the fine meshings on the underside of the flabberdashing . . . see how it swivels and swines . . . Note the foamy chocolate malt underneath it's gums . . . mmmmm-mmmm-mmmmm . . . now wouldn't you like some of that??"
     Cut to a little boy with freckles looking up happily, "I would I would!!"

     A  hand reaches out, a large man's hand and the boy takes it and he leads him behind a large green bush.  We wait a second, and then follow . . . we go around bush and then the man and boy begin to walk very fast down a long corridor going into the ground . . . announcer: "Oh, no!  Here we goooooooo!!!" and on to the rollercoaster-cam . . . thru flesh and blood and capillaries and milk and around the universe and back a thousand times or more . . . hubba hubba wubba . . . then to Stephen Hawkings: "There is chaos afoot."  Cut to a Susan Sarandon: "What is the meaning of chaos when applied to other parts of your life? . . . . You'd like to see my teetotalers, wouldn't you?  Don't lie.  I know you want it."  She smiles, and stares at you . . . . Cue Pizzicato 5 music . . . goto New York loft and watch as a painter paints in his manic manic state . . . hubba hubba . . . bring on the drugs not champagne . . . marijuana: a tribute, then flip oer to the bad side of life: corpses and genocide . . . music stops . . . a goldmine is reached.  Shit . . . my manic has ended . . . or ebbed here at any rate . . . bored . . I get up and leave the theatre . . . man even smaller than me rushes up "Wuzza matta boss?"

     "It's not you it's me," I say . . . walking out into the sunlight to take a long stroll along the water.  Solvitur ambulado.

     He looks after me wistfully, thinking: Tha's what they all say . . .

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