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From the prompt of "place" from Tony Evans

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Up There


For Shannon Lucid


I want to travel to Ancient Sirius.


Seriously tonight in a beaming dream. I’ve heard that some African tribes believe that this is their true ancestral land. You can read about Dagon tribes of Sudan in Graham Hancock’s anthropological tome called Supernatural. Sometimes legitimate dreamers discuss phantasmic phenomena like this under the snow-white stars in CSI’s parking lot after Thursday evening’s cultural anthropology class dismisses, right before tucking into star-shifting beds.


Without apologies, I would like to take off to there, way up over the piney wood.


And call in sick tomorrow on a supernatural satellite well phone. I trust up there floating in the silver fruit that they will have an advanced form of pine nuts to munch on when my years of fascination finally dwindle down to a new hunger.


I’ve heard that the apes on Sirius hold telescopes backwards that really work as microscopes. Even their lowest king enjoys this convenient vision. Speaking of this I saw an uncaptured photon of Sirius today –it looks like an aspirin. What’s up with that? I suppose I will need to Big Gulp down a couple of generic cryogenic chill pills if my dream doesn’t instantly transport me there tonight safely beyond Oort Clouds and Kuiper Belts.


But what about a traveling companion? I almost didn’t even think of that! So used to flying solo –you know. Perhaps another soul would enjoy sharing a serious ride with me to Sirius. Once we get there, I believe I could conjure up a minute bowl of pine nut soup. And boil it over a volcanic crater, in the event we need sustenance. Hey, if we overdo it, we’ll just break off a chunk of the Sirius. The whole place is an aspirin –just as the moon is formed from Emerald Cheese. At least that’s what an astronaut said, in an unrehearsed & unreleased outtake, when she was Captain Crunching on Idaho Tamarack pine nuts -down there around Craters of the Moon, where we paid in half-lives for flag’s blowin’ in the wind Like American Stars & Bars for every desolating drink between Carey’s old Loading Chute to Arco’s Pickles Place near Atomic City -Where Sirius sometimes still optimistically winks in the sky


Remember when we were in Africa?


See: The Size of Our World

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