Wind, high-pitched where
it cracked me.
Open hole
receiving
satellite transmission sound-byte
long legs tan
skin whiter
whites
brighter brights
half-naked
virgins singing about
sex
orange juice orange soda surfboards
hot sun SUV global
microwave astral ice
age smart
bombs car
bombs aeroplanes
mudslides
apple pie and
Chinese take-out.
Can’t plug
my ears.
This is hearing without meaning
to hear.

A cold whistle in my mind
keeps my
Self
on the ground beneath me.

© 2004