The yoga of the west
is a sort of cellization
Splitting it up ad infinum
contrary to the look
if properly observed
shows the intricate similes
bound in each island sect

I watch you as you do
we figure and I glue to it
small simples, lowly tries
as tears stream to break
and settles, wiley
pried open, the shopper lurks
products glow, seems too real
luster bursts and courts
to configure as topspin
directs, sets and disperses
this I see, selective
and the curse it churns
to pours so seeply.

I figured we’d happen upon a conflict
and figure to grow independently shared
in interdependence, because we seemed
to puzzle, you know? But maybe
                             I start seeing
                      y’re probably a faerie
                the way like gossamer
               the filament image shift
               and how you waved it away
              and I looked to see it
                  wondering.


         you could be writing this, I do believe
            and I cried, just not at present
           definitely later
         it’s strange to probe
          unlock my yearn, mast assuredly
         symbol my consort, in equal means
             and y’re painted in perspective
             and if I don’t shove to make you
                        inside by hopes
                          or desires that crawl
                       responsibilities to fold unto

          There’ll be other answers
        falling apart to the turning
        machines driving, fine tuned
            to rubbage materials
           hoping to find it, silly Mr.
         you fellow humble arrogantor

Just know that you can do it
if you feel like you can’t
well maybe that’s just not it
or maybe you need to wait
but don’t feel ashamed of it
because it can come back
as what you remembered
or something different
and you can still do it
because that’s what you do
so it may be said
that’s what y’re here to do

If we don’t extinguish the bitters
  the chance of harvest will turn a cold
for such is a barren, and ex to fertile


    talk to yr enemy, learn to look
  past yr shaming, understand
look at yrself, stop being cows
because a mob is a mob no matter
      and mind ceases to see
if it only looks at feelings
as boundaries to grow in

There’s no matter ever
no matter how dire,
that we should take too seriously,
and when realized: the better
to get through all the pain

the single
   most selfless act
that the baby boomers could
   bless us with
may be to show some gumption
   take some responsibility
then accept that what possibly
    is going on is
an action set forth by nature
    to even things out

it also may be
     that what could save this world from
    **** that we abundantly produce
would be to say to everyone, truly
and with love. ‘f**k yr feelings’
  because to take account
      of every time someone is offended..
          well, let’s just say you can’t
    make it the ideal temperature for all
and if you did, they would be bored
        

so it may seem
or really, to me it seems
when we stop looking within
to observe our afflictions
we tend to blame any uncomfortableness
on what it was that reminded us
of the pains we cling to;
instead of identifying causation


it’s something that seems cruel
    and there’s no pretending I’m not at all
just think though
      do you wish for future generations?
   what are yr hopes to entrust to them?
        if we preserve life,
where will newness become?
       with nothing to breathe
eat or drink. because
septua+genarians have behaved
as toddlers, since they were toddlers