The Artwork: Unobstructed
The Poem: Unobstructed
The body reaches a clamoring fever pitch
when it knows
what it knows
and the mind cannot do a thing
but blur edges
throw grenades of analysis
and send the heart down a horror story maze
of disappointed faces
wasted gifts
ego trips
Go to sleep yesteryear, I don’t want to hear you anymore!
Even the chattering phantoms of the future
won’t let me rest,
ghosts who don’t know when to give up haunting
(GET A LIFE)
Each vision feels
like a trap
but the body knows
there is not one thing
on this green earth
that will stop it
from knowing
what it knows
and if you don’t let
the body speak
and sing and swear
it will eventually
scream
So might as well
get out of the way
and get on
with the only dance
there is.