moondust

18 Jan


I feel like some kind of magic moondust of David Bowie’s ghost is following me. I have no other explanation for how I suddenly started to strum “Space Oddity”. Or how I wrote a David Bowie cut up poem so confidently, with the calmness of thinking about Chinati Hot Springs. Maybe that’s what I meant when I wrote “The Ghosts On the Lake”. And perhaps it’s true and meant to be that spirits are borrowed from the dust of the earth (and the moon).

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