Well, there was no screaming minute,

and also otherwise it was rather quiet.

No sounds that made waves, but instead

old ghosts on the run. 


 

For Art's Birthday, his 1,000,058th,

we fumigated the birthplace.
With Californian sage branches.


Quite a fog it made, fog

that made us disappear. 

And there, in that all-enveloping fog,
a neon sign flashes: OPEN. 


A warm welcome to PALACE.
Glad you were born!