






fine powdery snow
fills ground around grass:
frigid Winter day.
All I know is that it was much bigger and less capable than my current computer. But – then again – it wasn’t designed to monopolize and commoditize my attention.
In summary: bigger, slower, less capable, but less sinister.


fake snow from
fountain spray in wind;
the cold is real.
A self-administered lobotomy.
Having to watch MELANIA.
As I've traveled around the globe,
I've felt the music from some souls --
Those who exude, in part or whole,
a secret and sacred rhythm.
And when their tunes did call to me
I felt a yearning to be free
to dance and sing, if out of key,
yet ever so resonantly.
Who could have known that I'd go deaf.
With ear to ground, nothing was left.
It felt like a horrible theft
from all (and yet received by none.)