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Poca cabeza, mucho corazón

Today I acquired a medicine drum from a woman with silver yellow hair who is roommates with a six foot snake  and moved to Taos so she could see the sky  and belly dance with a Sufi master  and escape her marriage to a professor who had eyes for everyone but her 

A wise man tells her she is a queen from the future dreaming the now

So you see: we are after all mere fragments of an astral simulation 

being dreamed of by a silver yellow haired snake lady 

Kurzweil was close but mistaken 

for he overlooked the matriarch 

(They always do) 

She knows too well that everything is vibration:   Her womb was stitched back together by a throatsinger  She makes drums from the hides of elk  and bathes people in their frequencies waking lost souls from comas  by simulating the human heartbeat She knows all about the mighty heart:

The Pueblo elders taught her to splash cold water on her chest first thing in the morning to shock the heart awake

so that it speaks louder than the mind 

a sentiment that resonates with the advice an old Argentinian man who smoked an enormous pipe gave me when I was hitchhiking in the mountains of Córdoba:  “Poca cabeza, mucho corazón.”

I play my drum each morning

to drown out my mind with its heartbeat


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