RICH

RICH I am waiting, searching for my perfect being but I fear she will be made of anti-matter altogether, too complementary and so in the face of an oppositional universe I turn to poetry, just vegetate scour for a physics that might suit md better, sweeter, finer truly orgiastic resonating like bongos played in bars and night clubs by some California genius spirit a figure so rich pushing the outside of the envelope with every squiggle of chalk smooth stroke of his pen