poetry vol. 1...no. 99

[saw]

I'm in a trance again
the kind when you are fully aware
the internal transmutation that has to happen,
unable to wiggle my toes

my feet are frozen against the parlor floor
my mind races down the open page
physicality stays rigid and obvious, concrete
I see my manikin self, stiff, unyielding

mirror opposite of my frolicking mind
as if the body mustn't move an inch
if the mind hopes to take a spin around the block,
seems to be some kind of cosmic trade-off

open the brain stem valve
turn off the blood flow to the toes
divert every erg of energy
to the playground of the unconscious maniac

this is the writer's joy, the poet's goal
mastery over the profound shift of power
so please be still dear skeleton,
my head is on a swivel

[Doreen Peri]

so please be still dear skeleton,
my head is on a swivel

i'm listening... you took me on a trip.. I want to read numbers 1-98 in vol. 1



love those last lines

[WIREMAN]

ya know my head was on a swivel the whole time i lived on b'more street, but it kept my erg flowing...real nice one steve:)

[saw]

Doreen, Wireman... thanx colleagues, appreciate the feedback