I will move when you move,locked in and jointed
A blind, where my eyes had been.Headlights, intermittent, off and dim.
I can be spellboundand simultaneouslyfree,
Wade into warmth — the waters of pretense,until immersed, until the water enters you.
Living and dyingare the same, thoughthe former is sometimes a choice.
My head aches with the sunrise -data streaming into tired eyes;
So, home has moved on from Kansas,though the world is still Technicolor, and the moon remains my companion — the serene…
The keyboard is unfeeling,and the words are Darwinian evolutions,perhaps, even Freudian statements.