Legend

A certain guitarist, named Jimi, much beloved by Charlie, happened to die. Charlie sent some of the Family to array the defunct in his funky grave-suit. He himself followed them to the house of the deceased.

On entering the room, Charlie addressed the dead body: “My brother Jimi, arise!” Instantly the corpse arose saying “Here I am, man!” He then grabbed his guitar, and for three whole days and nights there was a righteous party.

More than a hundred of the misbelieving squares there were converted to the ways of the Family. When Charlie left the house, life departed from Jimi as well.

About ubu507

memory documentation and manipulation
This entry was posted in art, Poetry, Poetry and Art and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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