Too quickly we breathe, decided to separate natural
Breathe then, slowly now, and listen:
no thing there is, that is not natural;
no La-Z-Boy, guided missile, fruit-flavored drink, vehicle exhaust,
no idea, no direction, no inclination, no lab-born object of eternity,
no thing soaking up the sun,
no thing drifting behind closed eyes,
no thing is, that is not naturally
expanding effortlessly to express its existence,
squeezing out the super-, the un- the is-not, the must-not, can-not, shall-not.
There, ghost of a punctured lover!
Here, fever dream of machine elves!
Breathe deep, breathe confident.
Slowly in, slowly out.
All of this
slow, golden, confidence.