NUMB ON THE ROAD TO PEAS & QUITE:

Find a quite spot, get outside & breath, walk around, count stuff,
turn off the thinking. Words spill from mouths, meteorite showers
of questions as I lurch around, still numb & dazed from sleep.
The tongue in my head is fat & stupid, dropped it’s connection with
the brain that looks out through the pinholes in my head watching
particles dance in mid air, making no sense. By the time I’ve crossed
the kitchen I’ve accumulated a ‘list’, Jobs for days off between tours.

I get outside & breath, walk around, count stuff bursting out’ve the
ground, feel the head come back on line, words line up, articulate
at last enough to calculate numbers, words form into sentences,
ideas remembered, the desire to create returns, I’m alive!

Spent yesterday with my good friend Trevor Morais, one of the finest
drummers in the world.

(K)