THE ART OF FIGHTING ART:
The marks dance too sweet off the brush today,
beauty is ugly, familiar, safe, circumvents
the groove in the fabulous scratches & stains you leave for me
– I keep going straight to ‘nice’.
They’re stuck in limbo, waiting to make the jump, the muscle twitch,
tendons flinch in sync with the rhythm of streets. I return again,
again, again to find you, in the noise & dirt, waiting in the cracks
between the flash, snap your picture, steal a little soul for later,
wait, are you telling me that’s the problem, too busy taking
photographs when I should be taking it straight into the bone?
(K)
Karl Hyde 
A wise man once told me “don’t fight it, feel it” Between the goal posts let it flow through, round and out of you.
Still trying to figure out what postmodernism is about.
On the way I found John Cage – 4’33” while I listened to the birds, my cats and the wires dancing on my flagpole.
Love you more than ever Sunshine!