Black Light (II), David St. John

He thought almost everything in the Sixties
Looked better under black light

Certainly his shitty room with its posters
Announcing the bending of consciousness almost

Beyond consciousness & the many deities
Of rock 'n' roll & he'd sit on the mattress

Stretched across the bare floor & roll her a joint
While pointing out the Tibetan prayer flags

Hung across the alley in his neighbor's window
& the violet dark of the room gave his nakedness

The kind of greenish pallor he'd desired
All of his life as if he were a creature

Who'd already passed to the other side & was just
Back briefly for this one short hour to receive

Her swift & uncomplicated love