The Music Was My Special Friend

"I want roses in my garden bower, dig?"

Listening to the Doors in my garage surrounded by plumes of clove smoke tonight I thought my life drab and wanting for some deep thoughts.

Maybe I'll coax a some shiny yellow squash and juicy, plump tomatoes from my garden bower this Spring. I'm supposed to plant tomorrow, but, then again, I'm supposed to do so much that I continually fail to do.

Jim Morrison should see the state of the environment now, I thought, sipping my cheap, 7-Eleven bought white zin.

"What have they done to the earth?
What have they done to our fair sister?
Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her
Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn
And tied her with fences and dragged her down."

I'm turning out the light now because the music's over ... and, well, it's 2:20 in the morning and there are children who expect homeade French crepes just after dawn.