X

http://dialectical-delinquents.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/letter-X.jpg

Xanadu ( A place where nobody dared to go, a million lights dancing , an everlasting world, the dream that came through a million years that lived through all the tears) :

A valley of labyrinthine blues and greens, intertwining writhing streets, ladders and bridges changing direction slowly but surely, throbbing transparent glass sheets and controlled winds and mists, and the houses rotating and trampoulines tramping their trampish ways along soft rubber gulleys filled with life belts, a vast multi-track carrying the vast mobile train-city to what looks like a ruin of London, with the post office tower transformed into a vast helter-skelter, and everything else higgledy-piggledy, vast stoves and fires and musical instruments, round which people sit and eat and dance and argue and kiss and suck and lick and fuck and laugh and play-fight and cry and swim and sing and stroke and massage and drink and swing and drum and think and talk and walk and wank and run and poke and joke and endlessly communicate. Over the swirling, singing, screaming and grunting of the crowds a voice blares: “The train now arriving at platforms 9 to 2,117 will be calling on the magnificent refrigerated sea between the white cliffs & Calais, overland to the wild animal complex based round the old Eiffel Tower, down south to the underwater city of Mediterranis, through the firework fogs of Corsica, past Sardinia and its town of Clearplasticglass, onto the smouldering ruins of Rome, into Venice, the Ghost Town of risk-free Terror-Shock, then chugging past some truly explosive sunsets almost consistently indulged in nowadays by the anti-workers of Trieste…”