Build It!

I mean, you'd help me build it—right? ...That place where you could go... Where answers ask the questions, and the questions don't blow smoke. Where everybody's interested and has no ax to grind... just folks concerned with clarity, if  tired flying blind? Where art is done for art's sake, just commercials for the soul -- where classics don't sell lunch meat, but will serve the truth up cold.

Exposing some unusual lies, admitting what we should despise, copping to the starry skies—a satisfaction in reprise!

I mean, you'd help us build it—right? ...the stone work architecture, the streams and ponds—the shady spots... a site for our conjecture. A place to sit with back support. A spot to put your feet. Hot water from a tap that's free with air that's cool and sweet. And grass in leaves of different greens, an interwoven tapestry—splashed with reds that never fade... a painting of a rhapsody. 

A place to go—see different things, study stuff that "leaps and sings", watching close what "spreads its wings"—Imagination's wanton fling!

I mean, you'd help us build it—right? . . . the stars would paint the skies, and their focus be *explicit* as they glimmer in disguise. Words take on new meaning—definitions are profound, what's heard is CD quality—somber bursts of ultra sound. And the humor is full bodied, and the laughter's not at you... Everyone's respectful—even Christians, Moslems, Jews. 

No sacred cows, or inhibitions—no phony, harmful prohibitions, examining our inquisitions—changing ~all~ the cold conditions!

I mean, you'd help us build it—right? . . . the screens to show full motion, all the hardware that contains them, and the software smooth as lotion. Cameras have strange angles, and unusual fields of view to capture crystal empathy that could leave you unconfused. And a library for enjoyment with Teddy Sturgeon there on hand. Andrew Vachss will clean your clock, and then he'll help you understand. 

...Know truest love, without collusion, respect up front (it's no intrusion), examine every institution; improve, at length, your constitution!

I mean, you'd help us build it—right? ... the places by the falls in the mists of acquisition where we hear a lectern call. Where sunlight's dappled softly into shadows well perceived. Where we can talk, and eulogize the ignorance we cleave. Where space spins out unending, and the speculations call. We shan't be cheated from it; we shall laugh, and have it all! 

We'll sally forth for our detection , our senses sharpened for connections; we'll make (at once) those course corrections, choosing paths of BEST direction!