Jim Morrison, when he was still just the Lizard Prince, long...

Jim Morrison, when he was still just the Lizard Prince, long before he wrote the poem:

“A man rakes leaves into
a heap in his yard, a pile,
& leans on his rake &
burns them utterly.
The fragrance fills the forest
children pause & heed the
smell, which will become
nostalgia in several years”

He would be around 72 years old these days and, I imagine, a chubby, bearded blues singer who had defeated his demon alcohol, because you can’t drink like he did and live to 72. 

He would play festivals in gambling towns where dwindled and aged baby boomers spend their time blowing the money they worked all their lives for, just for a shot at even more money they don’t need. 

The hippie times are long gone, a promise not kept, but those were the days, weren’t they? 

Those were the days.