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DAVID ST. JOHN
Black Light (II)
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 
