Daintily Dirty (Or whoever she is) Wants the Scantily Skinny

'You go down there General, if you got the nerve.'

Forget the theoretical possibilities of blogging or the intellectualizing of what this might all mean, DD goes straight to the heart of the matter and asks some probingquestions about our brave new virtual world.

For those interested in the community aspect (as I surely am), do join in the discussion.

Bounce

Flickering gypsy eyes
I once fell through
Ice clinking on a deck
On a Gogh Gogh night
Stars reach across
like yellow tongues
vibrating with
the source
that is all. A little
Irish man wonders
how we make
it through. Echoes
explain there is no
door; Blake swings
upon it anyway. A
muted horn of a playboy
who forgot how to play
drops sand from
the beached sky. A
man of another mind
sings an ode to time;
building the architecture
of space; shall we
walk again upon
these polyphonic
waves; my legs it seems
have gone astray;
Or shall we fall
through the trampoline?
I’m following a blue light
That follows me. Bouncing
once beyond the world
and its neonticity.