It happens on the last hill with my breath reverberating against the roof of my mouth & out the top of my head. When invisible pins are pushed through my arms. My body weight increases, doubles, triples. I can't see it in a crowd of sign-holders & slogan shouters. There are those that have slept out @ night & caused a ruckus & climbed atop of statues & hollered & screamed. I'm not saying there isn't a time & a place for action. It has to be done. It has been done. It happens when I walk away from sleep in the middle of the night or early in the morning & my shoulders & back have had enough & I sit in the kitchen & open another book & another & another. I walked through crowded Chicago & all I could think of is we are not safe. If I look up to the top of the Willis Tower or try to walk quickly through the street  I am overcome. I can't see it. So...it happens on an unpaved road through the trees. & I open another book & another. I tune standard or not. Maybe I drop to D. I start putting it down, every random thought. The words without language. The sound without notes. 

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