Once we were lovers

Do I still want to play the pole game, circumnavigate between tropics?

Or dive in, at the very centre?

The one and the only way to know — just anything — is through love, which is nothing at all, zero — at its true value — the perfect union.

Love — not Loosh — as a constant potential resides, coiled or faked in the void, that 99.99 per cent reserve, a natural resource known to exist but not currently exploited except by a very small number in the like of the First Nations people stranded on reservations, outcasted.

"And it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal

I can't hear you anymore

I'm a-thinking and a-wonderin' walking down the road

I once loved a woman, a child I am told

I give her my heart but she wanted my soul

But don't think twice, it's all right"

— Don't Think Twice, lyrics by Bob Dylan

from the album: "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" (1963)

music from “Who’s Goin’ to Buy You Ribbons When I’m Gone?” by Paul Clayton based on

"Who's Gonna Bring You Chickens (When I'm Gone)

No use in splitting hairs, cavilling or keeping on pretending, daydreaming on coloured planispheres between Capricorn and Cancer before We Once Were Warriors We Were Lovers — not enamoured, plainly knowledgable.