wHeN HiP wAs hiP
I.
Sleeveless
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
frivolity.
II.
with purpose
like a freight train
headed to Chicago
on icy tracks
with three quarts
of coffee, wired eyes
and a wife
expecting
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.
III.
Hippies understand her trip
- they once let slip -
back when hip was hip.