New Angry Brother Poem by Walter Burns

I'm here Stamatakis.
Speak it Fieled, Duffy. New
angry sisters, brothers
of a holy poetic utopia.

I've run with feathers on fire to a place I call my own.

Hurtled three decades through known space
and found the island outside the mind.

I sensed a strange population
of demi gods and graphics,
and though I didn't know their tongue
I fathomed every word.
Burned on these liquid recordings,
I saw their human footprints.

On that first eternal day,
I breathed clear and mingled in.
But, before, as many
muse, 'where should I begin' -
in reply,
below the rocks on the lazy beach,
I saw miles and miles of skin.