Hiele Kinsella
The Third Summer of Love

It was the third summer of love and the radio was streaming a festival down by the sound mirrors. The neo hippies were worshipping the womb and vibrating with the infinite palette of rainbows. Couples were copulating by the concrete, as a hooded man resequenced its DNA, tuning the mirrors to five two eight. It was the love frequency, and they were spreading the love.