I didn’t shop today.
I never do. On principle.
This day represents
all that I loathe about our culture.
So I opt out
of anything that feeds the machine,
and I attempt countermeasures.
Tonight, a friend and I
guided folks into deep relaxation
with words, and breath and singing bowls.
We spoke of gratitude
and loving kindness,
We made a list and we took note.
We embarked on a journey of sensory awareness
into the deep woods of our subconscious.
Lulled into a dream state,
we set a grateful intention,
and when the final bell rang, it was bliss.
Now, driving home in a hazy yoga daze,
I’m wide awake, but half asleep.
I turn to look inside the passing houses.
Their Christmas tree is up and lit.
And theirs.And theirs.Not theirs.But theirs.
Up ahead there is a large house with
every single interior light on.
All of the rooms are completely empty.
All of the walls are stark and white.
There is a tall stepladder
in the middle of the living room.
It’s warm in my car.
David Bowie is singing
from beyond the grave.
‘I’m afraid of Americans
I’m afraid of the world
I’m afraid I can’t help it
I’m afraid I can’t’