"FOR DENISE, WHO VENTURED OUT AND SO BECAME FAMOUS"

Let's not speak of the bitter words exchanged
The petty respites about careers and parking spaces

For the hundreds of you who left womb-like dark
Below the surface of crimson desert there were thousands of us who stayed

We meditated peacefully on the ages
A million-mind thinking one thought and worshipping that one true god

Bringer of black water and crippled mice

The dust still tastes like blood and history
Here in the American underground

You can reach me through any of the usual holes

JD Frey--August 22, 1997