Too Close to the Edge

Too close to the edge.
I am a stranger to the contact
of spiritual experiences-
Searched for, I am smeared
in shamanistic sandpaper like
tracks of music.
The eye is too close to the edge.
Rabid. Lunging. Howling.
Spotted. Wireless. At the
The body is a brain.
The brain listens for 45
miles or more. Bibs to
Bigots. Solace in the discovery
of the first 100 words.
On some nights it all looks so
easy not to be seen by the world.

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