Wilson Rd, 1976

 Skinning up: our regular ritual together.
A certain complex arrangement of cigarette papers
licked and stuck together;
the breaking open of a cigarette or two,
and the placing of the loose tobacco in a line;
the warming of the resin in a lighter flame
and the scattering of the crumbled grains
from between pinched fingers up and down the tobacco;
the rolling of the joint, and final sticking of the paper;
the twisting of the loose end;
the creation of a roach from a piece of torn cigarette packet
and it’s careful insertion into the other end, the sucking end.
 
Lighting up: another stage in the ritual.
Application of flame to the twisted paper;
several quick puffs to get the tobacco alight,
a deep drag to fill the lungs, a pause,
and then the exhalation of smoke through mouth and nostrils;
another drag, and then the casual passing on of the joint;
the suckings in, the glowing of the lighted end, the passings on;
smoke and the incense of dope in the room,
voices and incredible string band in the ears.
 
Going in: the final stage in the ritual.
Breathing is happening, so liquid, so smooth;
sounds are happening, so liquid, so colourful
and shapely in the spaciousness inside;
meaning is flowing from the words, on and on,
the trail of connections is creating silvery lines;
quite large effort is pushing some words out into the room;
there is gutturalness, but across the room a smile is forming:
oh, love gets created in each moment, that’s love, that’s love;
 
‘dust be diamonds, water be wine,
happy happy happy all the time time time’.