Farting felicity -
How long gone, now a
distant star in space-
as a gurgling brook of
heavenly murmurs, disquiet
thrumming combo, turned
crescent flesh, brutal and subdued until,
one socializes, recombines,
and altruism visits, presides, provides.
Carpi, digitorum, and flexors,
metacarpals, index, and fingertips
dangle a top for a gambler's game,
and, with it, the fate of outcome, and
woe for the long-begotten soul,
the soul drab in its rag, robe, and *****,
whose wealth subtracts as it doth add,
and a wise fool realizes -
Time and grace,
Love and death,
departure and arrival,
is but ******.
