the other day our electricity became ungrounded and circuited through our skin. at the
same time, a brilliant actor died, politics kept happening (as they are wont to do),
and a lesser known group of internet renegades declared war on a very specific organized
religion. that's beside the point though

the point is that when we touched each other we vibrated and disagreed as to why, between
rubbing hands down hair-raised upper arms and remarking (repeatedly)

"that's sooooo weird." i said it was electric. he said he didn't know what it was but it
wasn't electric. i said it had to be electricity because when both hands were placed on a
surface connected to the source of vibration, the vibration stopped. the circuit was
therein completed and ran unnoticed across our hearts.

he said he didn't know what it was but it wasn't electric. i adjusted the plug in its
socket and the vibration stopped and he said "check it out, they're raiding churches
in london now." and i said "wow. i'm surprised they're serious. i'm going to get some
tea." when my feet rubbed across the floor, it sparked on the metal of the doorknob,
and i jumped.

01/26/2008

Author's Note: this was moved from "Whistling Pot Projects" and is technically the first poem i wrote in 2008 -- rather than "once i go crazy nothing will be too forward." every time i go back to it, it grows on me more and more, so it goes into my library. oh aye.

Posted on 01/26/2008
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