Rolling greens, heaving little faith my ass, a fox across the soil these days I spend little pebbles by the shore crying rebel camps setting circles in fields we're built again, architects of desire, seedlings of palms in some shrines to the goddess, I sit and dont realize mud sinks between toes and windows are my only arch way out, outings the girl from greenland, smelling like petunias and june and me swaying from the electricity in the air "the concrete is wavy" your eyes are beautiful words, saiyazen the music of wheels on dirt roads I am a goat herder.. my beard is the ox finding antlers cast like why? I do a q and A with the trees that leaves no stone unturned in the backyard, with a baby looking at me turning back walking up with her mother what am I supposed to do? I smile these years have settled thick on the banks of my heart love and stuff it doesn't stop, all around diminishing hill top weathers that bring thought clouds of hereditary bliss hip hop and a little pouch full of pinto beans where some old guy died who thought 'what is a word?' stop trying they say as I'm caught across the divide being torn in two ways when it should even be some dream, I keep saying running to the trees so much beauty, to me it says life and love and runs through my veins, emerald lizardlike in the window pane of my eye the hills look like animals from a long ago time all my friends reality checking my battery, pranic wisdom and yo, by the swing of my hips, these chips fall like baseballs some kid hits and thinks about god moving his wrists in autumn, in the city I only have outlines of his peripheral drunk in the light what is it all saying? two birds fuck in mid air some things are always beautiful as the words come forth more dissolves into the page into the white, black representing nothing I close my eyes and let it go without thinking I close my mouth and stop saying stupid things I keep writing only to prove I am still here they ask why? I would be dead by now without this The spirit of Wanti, the pomo, sayazen in my feet, my heart, my head the universe is here, the bed everything it is a totally free path, without dogma, without ritual, with overlapping actuality, whatever that means the places we go, or do not go, what we do or do not do is up to us, we have to have our own measure for success and so I wander each day, through the physical world, and the spiritual world and every where I go, there is a memory that memory is the goddess, the goddess in the goddess I was skateboarding home after a long journey searching for people in a similar feeling, I had been to many holy places that were the same as ordinary places, and she passed me, she was so beautiful but I did not stop, we could have said anything, anything could have happened but we continued on as if nothing happened and blessed eachother silently sometimes it is like that, religions start in parking lots, just the way something happens the essence of action, but not to get all zen like, wanti is far from zen, there is nothing to gain from it, In my heart I developed a longing for pot a plant that I saw did so much right in the world, I found no reason not to use it but around me, this kingdom in which I live says it cannot be used why? this question is goddess, and some may find it stupid, but its sayazen the clover after the board hits the stream the chirping of birds, the exhausted feeling of being on the road for a while it is spirit, the spirit of all things the spirit of the misunderstood I am a yonato, an earthy home for these things, but it is not just me it comes from everything, it is a community that is sacred a group of people, or things that together unite and become whole wholeness is all that there is ever, so why need for a way of life? it just comes, but these are only words wanti is only words it is honesty it is changing its not meaning to be so strange, maybe its just an idea but it makes me passionate for no reason
