he walked into her roomstopped
short
she had said shed
be meditating she was in the classic pose crosslegged yogastyle spine erect
Ouchhis
legs never bent like that maybe thats why
he never pursued either meditation or
prayers Gumby an Pokey had a better shot
of being disciples faithfuls than he
he couldnt tell if she was
conscious
the fact she sat boltupright
wasnt a hint
she looked like a snake if a snake could close its eyes rather than
shut down their retinas
he quickly checked his
breathingquieted it he didnt want to
interrupt her despite her saying that when she was in deep meditation nothing
could disrupt her
not even a Huey turning lazily overhead dumping fire-retardants on a fire razing
homes around hers roused her
fact of the matter was last year seven homes within a quarter mile of hers off
the same vale and candle-wicking palms went up in flames
her husband broke into her roomWe
gotta go! Go? There’s a fire, babe. Move it!
still not to refute her he didnt want to traipse in and mess with her
energiestake her off point
hed known too many women who
complained he lost their orgasmthat he broke them by changing up his lapping
rhythmhow the fuck was he to knowhe was busy
all they had to do was bury his head deeper between their legs that was communication enough mebbe a breathy Yahbaby There!That’s it! Therethere
Thats ityoure at it Stay put
ThereThere Yaaah Yahthats the fuckin’ spot Aaah
he thought she might be asleep she
said sometimes she fell asleep in the midst of meditating part of it sometimes she communicated with it whatever
it was at a different levelunconscious level
maybe
she thought he was an idiot
“Your soul will know.”
thats what he caught off the broadcast a man on a podcast kept reiteratingpronouncing
like a bad case of herpes "Your soul will know.”
“Call
it karma.”
“Call it your experience.”
“Your soul will know, your karma,
your experience . . . you will Know.”
he had trouble considering soul
when his daughter was younger he was younger whenever
she got in trouble and
she knew she was in troubleknew what she had done was wrong
she said her brain made her do it
Fuckin cutehuh
Cute
that was cute she fingered her brainan Aww an Aww moment
so he
awwwed for a moment he had to take a moment to Awww like cumming
a brightblue step outside himself
then
harshly as a parent he had to step back an step back up his senses cleared by
either Awww or Ommm he had to tell his daughterask her Your brain Really
Youre
going to blame your brain
It did wrong
Your brain is you baby
Finger your brain all you want –
but thats not getting you a pass or saving you from an appropriate punishment she hated punishment Dont
do the crime if you cant do the time
a great tried and true adage
probably
graffiti scrawled on a bathroom stall partition lotsa memorable lines were
found on bathroom stalls or in bricked alleyways scrawled with paint cans unschooled
poets wary pithy observations
they interested him as much as
literature refined prose
refined prose was too
selfconscious for him too self-aware
on occasion he didnt mind it
it was an acquired taste and not to be over-indulged
it was different than an
unexamined life
So no baby Your brain didnt do it
You did it
An youre going to pay the price
You can think on that for the
next fifteen minutessitting on the edge of your bed DON’T you dare touch a toy You sit You think on what you you
youdid Not your brain You are
your brain
he left the bedroom
she wouldnt dare cross him
he left her to examine her
actions her error her life
now her sisteryears later is examining her soul
“Your soul will know.”
he doubted he had a soul
0828, Monday,
28 10. 19
1308, Reggae
Friday, 1 11. 19
