When I still had balls – owls – Rose Mary would take my parrot in hand and say, “Come on, Baby, let me see your colors. Let your colors spill.”
It was fantastic, but not enough to overcome man’s desperation for love. So I was castrated. The passion of my balls transmuted into wisdom…I traded my owls and got Rose Mary’s parrot back from man. It’s a five-inch Superstar and its Mine; and it’s Ours.
O, my Lovers!
O, my Lovers!
Om shanti shanti
link to part one
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