wHeN HiP wAs hiP

wHeN HiP wAs hiP

she pulls her heartstrings  
to the surface  
to look around  
join the beating ohm  
and be one with god  
music being her vibration
my ears, her laboratory  
her nature lives in a single note
prancing upon my eardrum
divine in all it's glory  
resounding on our skins
in goosebumps laced

with purpose
like a freight train
headed to Chicago
on icy tracks
with three quarts
of coffee, wired eyes
and a wife      
him home by daylight  
An interesting twist, was this  
   was this
who knew her vibes
contained overtones
of boyish melodies
genetically engineered
by thousands of hours
of painful musical experience
and heightened emotions.  

Hippies understand her trip
- they once let slip -
back when hip was hip. 

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