It started with convincing myself to go out:
The energy opens up --
pushes through --
shuffle, shuffle along.
moves them on ...
a space of neon and ding, ding, ding....
We don't have a sacred place
things here are always brought from somewhere else --
could something maybe be birthed here?
Something we need.
Something we are using this life to find.
Aren't we? Aren't we always??
Cliche, cliche, cliche
So here we gather
at the shuffling place
finding ourselves with authenticity forgotten...
perhaps never known at all...
There it is
of the cymbal
of the bass drum
of the snare
while everyone watches
your next trick makes us aware
the spot this is --
our life is beyond this...
So what to do... what to do... what to do....
gelatinous membrane of cells that are --
how will we transpose these flicks of time?
still a something we don't know?
A misplaced blueprint with instructions so detailed