and I look back at my pizza...
and I look back at Stonehenge...
And I suddenly realise: STONEHENGE WAS A GIANT PIZZA OVEN!...
Where they used cows instead of pepperoni slices!
They made a huge iron pizza pan and set it on top, and then set their fires, and cooked up one hell of a monster pizza - maybe like one every month - you know, with the moon. And they made TONNES of money, especially off of their fast and courteous deliveries. And this concept doesn't necessarilly have to clash with all the religious mythology. Cuz I know a lot of Druids who really LIKE pizza. In fact, I find this to be more than coincidence. Druids and Mayans. I believe it's some kind of secret brotherhood. Like Pizzacrucians...
Then Kat calls, and she starts talking about the Mayan Calendar running out in 2012, and the Apocalypse, and all - and I'm thinking - will that be the day when all the giant pizzas return? Maybe that's what UFOs really are - very big pizzas being delivered to secret Druidic and Mayan people who are waiting for the final day of rapture! And I just know they will want lots of ancovies! I just know it!
TO A LOST CIVILISATION
I cast the first stone
Through jumbles of glass and light
Through spectacles, through streets,
Curled and bending like carpets
In a torrent of industry
Like waves receding, and crashing
In upon themselves, upon the weak.
I cast into this vast mirror
Past my own new face asking
"Who will I be, when I'm a man?"
And the answer which preceded.
Through glass, man's cup of time
Vulcanised from sand, I cast
Long, long though mind - a time
Impossible to perceive, so gone
It lies, unreal, conceiving history,
As Night begot the heavens
Which, unable to look back,
Constructed an infinite wall called Evil
Meant to distract from evolution,
Leaving us all casting back
And forth. Some turn to salt.
Some turn to glass. Some collapse,
Especially this year.
Oh, to be where my soul's pebble lands -
Amongst the sands that crept
Unseen beneath the nails of my father's
And my father's hands; to fall
A babe amongst babes; facing
The explosive sun of Stonehenge;
There to eat my sacred grain
And turn with all the world
Innocent, saved, imagining!
Holding a dream so small, so pure,
It races past this petty day
And dares to play, immortal,
Unlike "Y2K",
Senatorial debate, or
Wall Street's great escape.
Into megaliths of memory - erased,
I cast the first stone.
It is all I own.
Welcome to the days of Halloweening! More to come!
