Mother Earth

Andy Curlowe, Adam. . .Let’s go to Colorado, 2013

I went to a Millennial poetry reading last night literally sitting on the train tracks. I peed in a bathroom lit only by a black light and watched the torn pieces of toilet paper scattered-squat on the floor, glowing bits of paper eyes. I heard poetry like this.

earth body

imagine trees growing out of your arm

people walking all over you

cars and trains polluting the air you breathe

octopuses spraying bad tasting ink in your mouth

nuclear bombs going off around your neck

oil rigs digging under your skin

kimono dragons fighting each other in your hand

polar bears swimming in your eyes

a dad dropping a plate of hotdogs on your knee

meteors from space hitting you in the head

the inside of your body molten hot

and you cant escape any of it

this is what is feels like to be mother earth

daniel alexander  from slime dog you are my friend

And I remembered again that I am not young anymore. I am old as dirt.