and they came close to me
from above
hanging
waiting till I touch them
once I find them
in the cloud of smoke
those
anchors
I touch one
and it takes me up
high above the ground
only to pump my flesh
with 220 volts
there are two rows of us
hanging out there motionless
but somehow we wake up
to what dream?
but somehow we make it back on earth
which earth?
There go the dancers – spending most of their time on stage fighting each other. Every time there is one or a couple igniting something, a reaction causing another reaction, multiplying, erupting into a seemingly chaotic mess and collapsing into silence again.
In other words a guy stamps heavily on the ground, trying to squash a girl under his soles. But she keeps tossing that hard he misses every time.
Then another guy turns up and stamps just once. That’s enough to make his adversary collapse. Soon more and more such predators appear, so when the whole stage is stamping and tossing happily, a true master turns up and, by stamping his foot just once, he makes all kiss the ground.
and so on and so on…a picture of evolution switching forms.
