i walk on the precarious edgeof the new and the old, wanting to shedthe locks and lies of a mechanical world, eager to dive into the smooth cool waters of abundant life i am young,i am a woman,
how much do dance studio owners make, i live in a land where i can choose. there are disco lightsand magnetic forcespulling me into the tunnel the tunnel where everyone goes. almost everyone.
it vacuums up mall shoppersand telemarketers, executives and bartenders. it promises clean sheetsand mickey mouse vacations, automatic garage doors and cell phone communications. if you choose the tunnel you will never have to be coldor hungry or alone. there are pills to erase headaches and drinks to drown hearthaches. there are movies to make you laughand cars to move you fast.
if you don't like your face,surgery will change its shape. there is no need for god the tunnel will keep you safe. but if you stop believing, oh! if you stop believing... the tunnel will disintegrate and leave you swimming in a septic tank. my choice is clear. i am stepping slowlyinto the quiet open land beyond.
there are no roads, no maps, no guides. there is no insurance coverage, no training school. edible vegetation is sparse. rain trickles down my backas i fumble with reeds to make a hat. through the mist i catch a thread of song
and rise to see a band of barefoot sisters approach with open arms.
with nothing more than faith and grace, our dance has just begun.
