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I wrote this on a moonlit night on top of a castle's roof with some friends in Namibia. It was unsuspectingly eerie and fantastical at the time. Reading this probably seems like the the incessant ramblings of a fool to you, but to myself and those friends... it's just so much more. You had to be there and see what we saw to appreciate this.

how amazing is this
i am writing in complete darkness
or well,
Orwell

in the night
i am,
impossible bouquet
in the death of night, a tuscan villa
with german walls and art of Africa
cuisine of France
cuisine of America; the soils of
Namibia, solemn angst
arbitrary light
pollen-dusted mountains
dunes illuminating the sky
and
as
always, what the fuck
am I writing?


The hyperlink is an mp3 with the same name.