Vulnerability Lies

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

Posted by

I'm a rock-n-roller poet who left the Big Apple for the Big Sky Desert where I've been letting it be and grooving with universal love, singing to the gods, dancing with the muses and bicycling with dreamtime messengers. I like altering my reality through imagination, movement, breath, and makin' stuff.

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