reaching complete self detachment
feels like floating out above myself
i am typing this poem
with my fingers out above themselves
the present moment is 6:39:41 pm
i used to know an old black man
who played a handsaw like a violin
with the bow along the smooth edge
when bent, the frequency moved
out above itself into empty white space
that's where i am now
if your brother or sister, daughter or son is in the 4th grade and needs to pass art class, i will provide drawings of your choice for a small fee.
please contact me at matthewsavoca @ gmail.com