Healthy Outlets

Poem, reading, and photo by Fern Golden

I'm already light on my feet, 
lit on fire, my breath burning. 
Dreams, neurons, software, 
dreams. I'm only human. 

I plug into the grid to recharge.
Pirouetting on the novelty 
of my own creativity. Repleting.

I'm only human; animal. 
Dreams, neurons, software, dreams.
I plug into the grid to recharge.

I don't really need limbs for this.
Yet they exist; and have their 

reasons. I am only human. Animal;
circuit board, feathers, mycelia, 
and slime-mold grid encompass it.
And. I try to find healthy outlets.