Ohm

 

Ohm…

 

They tell you stupid things

Like

Everything has its reason

Mantras

I could wring my neck like a chicken

With so much deep breathing

My feathers already plucked to the point

I am redfaced, ashamed of how tactless I speak

Shaking my finger at the oil companies

And anyone else who emerges in the mail as so

Much extra paper

I have to throw out, then collect back again from the bin,

Shred meticulously, and then back to the bin again

Because someone might think they need to be me…

Chopra move over

I was trying to only take a nap

And there you come in

With your eight to ten glasses of water

Smelling organic

You’re only going to get older anyway

Leave me alone with my cabernet

And oils under my fingers

And the moon shining under the sill like a thief

I like the way love sneaks in

When I think

I am nearly unwilling

I like the sun on my shoulders

I don’t think of the melanoma

Melancholy is an easy dance partner

When the day becomes too long and

There isn’t hardly enough chocolate in the

Cupboard to count….