2008 field Art Exhibition - Gallery
Satchel Lyon
St Vitus Dance
2007, Poem on paper
the speed of the planet boils
flesh -
I wake up out of sorts,
left eye closed - right hand withered,
slip into St Vitus dance;
pity the poor bastards
who cross my path
today.
people walk heads
down stealing stares;
I curse gravity -
holding me down
when I need to spin.

