beyond courtyards (100 years)

once we imagined we weren’t looking at screens to be moved,

while

meeting a center point,

to make our moves in the world.

we were,

blithely,

following the star shed glitter of hope,

opportunity,

soaked with excitement: a squeaky liberty.

flung scope splurging…

as skin or

spark plug,

or pus

or

web bug

monitoring transition …

thus,

what does a male spider do

while flying in its rightful air plane

enpleinair

to the total,

the praxis of surfing,

its web,

so very form ridden,

via frail lines,

likes forced into form violence hidden

within the pink diamond, sagacity.

what a swim to unencumbered numbers:

Here, to fornicate the bewilderment of

gastrointestinal  stress,

the celestial course,

architecture as well as the terror of music,

barren,

new metaphors to not be the lad of riptide,

but

to be riptide:

The Pink Radio Show, the stronghold

of

hundred years of solitude (metahaven)

cloud.

Hello Crowd!

–Martina Gertrude Siebert