Messages bounce from blankfaces, pass along
glances that act as if they're paving the way.
But hands on the ends of wooden arms are lifted-
how they fly to pierce glass atmosphere.
They all sit to form a circle.
Wield organic hand-on-wood-arms.
And use them like baseball-bats! Messages bounce from hand to hand…
Swung over their heads.
It will feel like meat. Slapping electronic sleepy fuzz-meat.
Never to awaken – hand-stick / stick-hand.
Slapped back and forth.
There is no outside the circle.
Fuzz meat swingbatterbatter those messages!
Your swing goes outside the circle –
No one asks why no one sees the difference anymore
Don't just do something, stand there!
Message flies like rubber packed
with years of forgiveness, welling up.
When it hits, it hits you hard.
We rejoin formation;
And in unison we begin to swing
