(no subject)

[claire_writes]

We are being suffocated by
material possession
which gives loveless birth
to material attachment
on the bedroom floor-
through the sunshiny streets
and the infinite labyrinth of destination.

And divorced from the earth and the smell
of our food we should paint
our faces with the leftover dirt
leaving beauty marks
on our vegetables
before we wash them away
and show gratitude for that tiny tango
with the soil in which it sprouted-

And looking down at our gargantuan guts
that could feed villages-
broke and ravenous
for million dollar loaves of bread,
our giant seedless TVs laughing at us,
We should kiss our skin, stroke our bones
and be thankful
for the chance to practice
some asceticism for a little while.