About
Gathering Room of the gestalt conglomerate Tomorrow’s Man, primarily an auditory creationistic mental defective collective that occasionally shames the artistic integrities of the eons to which Tomorrow’s Man says:
“Nertz to the eons gabba whee to the ba
to the ba to the hey hey diggy diggy,
Stardust Niggy and wrenched Trent with a dash
just a splash of Bowie con Eno the One big
beats small feats upon which I keep
walkin’ steady
strollin’, heady
steady hip hoppa rock ‘n rollin’ that smile ‘cross her face she’ll
show me the difference between faith and a facial
still droppin’ the slish of the slit with the mighty strong hand
of the proud new liberal man on the stand
Still keepin’ the libido alive, this immortal Stonedriver
soaked in K23 yes it’s me,
Tomorrow’s Man remembering your dreams
I’m a poet can’t rap worth a pea
but I have a damned fine plan to just
keep up this pace
this delivery
this boiling point unmanned madness this desire this need
to saturate
to permeate
to re and re and recreate
to have sex ornate
the number eight
nah, sixty-nine
I lick the line between surreal and sublime
I’ve got my grip on the trick of time
and now I’m fine
now I’m primed to keep the slate
far
far
from clean.”
