Climb up a Tree, Fall Out, Repeat

whoa cheetah,

let's make excuses.  getting 10 months of pictures off my phone today.  that's what I did that made my back stiff and my mind glazed over like a donut melting in your mouth.  

never enough time to clean it, parse it, devour it.
sink in hard.  grind it down to the nub.
set it afire, so we can inhale the fumes
and pretend they fill us up.
that's not really smoke leaking out of the holes where you poked me with your prickles.
it's not.

never enough perfection to last.
get filled up again and again and again and again
and you still have to do it again and again and again.
is that good or bad?
ask the sage writers of words on tea bag paper.
that's a job with pressure, lives in the balance,

where do I put this sublime offering?
I neglectfully held it for this long and forgot the procedure.
step one: breathe.
step two: breathe
step three: breathe harder
step q: let it consume you.
at least, that's what the tea bag says.

this is the part that must surpass all that other previous inadequacy.
it all comes down to this moment.
I must meet it, friendly or no;
it and I must meld and martinize my mind with vulcanic precision.
instant results fizzing up to the brim....
breathe, sink, repeat.  breathe, sink, repeat.
no pressure.

I let the glaze melt in your mouth,
let it all wash away.
my back and this steel blend,
so I am stronger,
even if less concentrated than before,
able to embrace the contradiction
it seems this is so long as I forget the steel is me.

groovy book pic from here.


Randal Graves said...

If you show me your donut, I show you my custard filling? Don't steel me with your swordsmanship.

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