From WILDERNESS- The Lost Writings of Jim Morrison Part 6

France is 1st, Nogales round-up
Cross over the border-
land of eternal adolescence
quality of despair unmatched
anywhere on the perimeter
Message from the outskirts
calling us home
This is the private space of a
new order. We need saviors
To help us survive the journey.
Now who will come
Now hear this
We have started the crossing
Who knows? it may end badly


The actors are assembled;
immediately they become
enchanted
I, for one, am in ecstasy
enthralled.
Can I convince you to smile?

No wise men now.
Each on his own
grab your daughter & run






Mexican parachute
Blue green pink
Invented of Silk
stretched on grass
Draped in the trees
of a Mexican Park
T-shirt boys in their
Slumbering art





funny,
I keep expecting a
knock on the door
well, that's what you
get for living around
people

a Knock? would shatter
my dreams' illusions
deportment & composure
The struggle of a poor poet
to stay out of the grips
of novels & gambling
& journalism





But this will not do. No, this
will never do. There are
continents & shores which
beseech our understanding.
Seldom have we been so slow.
Seldom have we been so far.

My only wish is to see
Far Arden again.

The truth is on his chest
The cellular excitement has
Totally inspired our magic
Veteran. And now for an
old trip. I'm tired of thinking.
I want the old forms to
reassert their sexual cool.
My mind is just - you know.
And this morning before I sign
off I would like to tell you
about Texas Radio & the Big Beat.
It moves into the perimeter of
your sacred sincere & delicated
Smile like a calm survivor
of the psychic war. He was
no general for he was not old.
He was no private for he
could not be sold.