in this bubble of atmosphere clear
we all hurtle through each year
thousands of miles per heart-beat
exploding outward, spinning too,
while we do.

we don't feel it, we don't see it.

so,

while our children are raised by the big TV,
we don't care, we can't see.

...not about that...


we care about a kiss, a caress
a 26 thousand day venture in this mess
we call life,
our childeren's teeth being straight and white.

when the curtain opens, we play our part,
no cues needed, we lead with our heart
and act-out ...

or


we wait
on
the Oscar,
the Emmy,
the ticket
to being
somebody
to
everybody
or
at least
to
any
body.

04/18/2005