A skin of bytes
made for delights
that only minds unwound
can take rufuge in
that digi-sin
with simulated sound.
A cackling whore
with speech that bores
a thinking man to tears
it is the skin
where it begins
skin-tape of our fears.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I take refuge in the fact that even though you deleted your works that I got to know you from, that something remains which shows the glimmering fragment of the poet who is also a musican and a philosopher as well as a parapsychologist in there..
Post a Comment