The Hard Swallow

The hard swallow. Sometimes it feels good, sometimes it challenges.

Sometimes, it hurts good and proper.

At times, it just aches.

The taxidermist did a fine job.

Time cost. Moment to moment. What system of valuation do we use to assess our own choices?

Incremental, linear.


Scales of magnitude.

The red queen nailed a few posts into the ground.

At the last peg she told Alice


Illywhackers once glib and smug now understand how

[frightened] and [scared]

are not the same.

Yet, no price replaces and no dream undistills

the realization that contrarians can be cowards.

The burning sun rises as my moon today.

A boudoir of meditation, breathwork, bareness

And open-secrets.

A saucer of milk for the feline.

Love split in two and i say i keep it with others.

The pitfall is when you need them to share it back with you on a busy, misunderstood day. Better to share it than to hoard it, but there may be

No blame, no

fingerbanging guns.

Is this when what was invaluable

becomes valueless?

The deer does not worry for the hunter.

The deer worries about all hunters,


From the Readings of CHUANG TZU

Moral: the more you pile up ethical


And duties and obligations

To bring everyone in line

The more you gather LOOT

For a thief like Khang.

By ethical argument

And moral principal

The greatest crimes are eventually shown

To have been necessary, and, in fact,

A signal benefit

To mankind.

Forest Down: It snowed Cottonwood


A yellow monarch on

bloom flutters-by.

That is not random light, it is a worm

suspended by a satin string.

Spinning mid-air.


of the path.

Is that a good or a bad day for the creature?


Hanging by a plant,

pint and a praeter-prayer.


One branch a’loosened. Snapped. Remaining.

The bark of a

tree’s tread. Rubber meeting road-air.



Veined loam.

20190610_135552700335058920421122.jpg Detritus.




A feather/s lost is no

clipped wing but


Bird might have gone


I well-aged pair of companions.


Purple seeps in.


Light hangs in



Gone before you can even blink.

Driven snow around and on the ground.

Reel to Real

Transition equal

the changing of the

guard or the gourd?

Howl. Giggle.

Does this and that prove x, yet?

Did it hurt, ewe?

Tell me true.

Folks ain’t used to fools acting differently?

Do, do what you do.

I know. and

I do.

allow people to hear anew

Vessel unvasseled.

No game, no simple-tool, not an achievement

not religions.

Love in the key note of the tonic

of a practice of ecstasy.


Just breathe.


Method before theory, dummy.

Fear versus fright

on the fight or flight

that wilt be




Howl I smile.

New does not mean novel, dear.

Praise, you say?

What’s that like, I say?

I caw-ckle aloud but only inside.

Hun, if it is not a game then there is no

prize to win.

Just a desire to hunt and

that is regardless of the financial costs some

enobligate in self-defense.

I am fickle, am I?

I am love and love hated.

Loved hatred and hatred loved.

I submit that I am written.

Tolle lege.

The lesson is

it does not matter what

The lesson is

Don’t overlook the symbols.

I was taught we inherit the problems of a previous, now non-corporeal generation,

but, I don’t believe we can

blame ourselves for their

patterns within which we


find ourselves.

A carbonic processing of your pinot.



The guy in the corner?

A martial artist.

A soldier in disguise.

Blacklisted for the blackbelt earnt in logistics.