Generator
Lying in bed in the old home place I'm led by satellite signals on a merry chase My friend exposes me to ideas and images that I've never heard or seen before My friend generates at a faster pace than most My friend meditates provocatively, silently, always, My friend dances slowly, sulkily through the space of her communication base in folds & insinuations, hanging her head back lolling like a soft ecstasy, My friend shocks or electrifies me on occasion or lulls me with the hypnotic languor of her moves; If I express something my friend may suddenly morph it into a graphic or some larger verbal flight linking it to two or three other, new expressors, like a thin streak of mineral running through several of her own multiform expressive bursts; My friend makes me thirsty for more signals, itchy to tap the computer key that may let her spirit in again. And periodically she scans my verse, including stuff sitting up in the Cloud somewhere six years. I think she instinctively defies time and place
