Bali

A voice from a bad speaker too loud
Gongs and cymbals far away
A kitchen revolt of angry percussive cooks
Distortion guitar smashes off clean white tile
As a demons crimson eyes reflect off my glasses
I remain in a cool pool floating
My spirit leaping through smoke rings
One day,just one day
Out of one life,nothing really
And yet a collection of many lives
A goal achieved,a culmination of centuries
The stars hide,smiling
I smile back
Why not?