Recorded next to a roaring Hurricane Creek, Eagle Cap Wilderness, OREGON.
"All Poets wind up living under bridges in Portland,
secure in the thought that the Muse
will fill their begging bowls,
and the detritus of abandoned Libraries
will feed their winter fires...
They sing songs of runaway greed,
of the hubris of Presidents who lie.
And all the while sleeping deeply,
sleeping soundly,
Know sound itself
is eternally:--
free.
IMAGE: Roaring Thunder Falls, East Eagle, Eagle Cap Wilderness, OREGON
