Tripping the Light

I can’t dance

Unless I’m tripping

Then I am gripped

By the music, you know

I found that secret in dream town when I was

Down and out

Panhandling at the intersection of Haight and poor

That night about eight or so

Wearing a gauzy peasant blouse and

Long skirt

Bearing pheasants in my hair and

Beads

And barefoot

An old coot gave me a small square of LSD and a ticket to the show

I crow-walked in

Heart played on stage

Waves of music splashed through the hall

I started to dash and rage and jig and two-step in time

Lights flashing and pulsing in rhyme

With hundreds of others

All psychedelic colors and fancies tripping

And me with the best of them dipping and

Dancing fit to bust.

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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