Bear-Tzu The Simplest Sage.

bookselves:

isabelthespy:

bonesarecoralmade:

Fuck me, oh God, with ordinary things
the things you love best in the world -

like trees in spring, exposing themselves,
flashing leaf buds so firm and swollen

I want to take them in my mouth.
Speaking of trees, fuck me with birds

say, an enormous raucous crow,
proud as a man with his hands down his pants,

and then a sparrow, intimately brown,
discreet and cautious as a concubine.

Fuck me with my kitchen faucet, dripping
like a nymphomaniac,

all night slowly filling and filling,
then overflowing the bowls in the sink-

and with the downstairs neighbour’s vacuum,
that great sucking noisy dragon

making the dirty come clean.
Fuck me with breakfast, with English muffins

the spirit of the dough aroused
by browning, thrilled by buttering.

Fuck me with orange juice,
its concentrated sweetness,

which makes the mouth as happy as summer,
leaves sweet flecks of foam like spit

along the inside of the glass.
Fuck me with coffee, strong and hot,

and then with cream poured into coffee,
blossoming like mushroom clouds,

opening like parachutes.
Fuck me with the ticking

clock, which is the ticking
bomb, which is the ticking heart -

the heart we heard in the first months,
in the original nakedness,

before we were squalling and born.
Fuck me with the unwashed spoon

proud with its coffee stain -
the faint swirl of a useful life

pooled into its center, round as a world.

oh god, that’s quite wonderful.

This is fantastic.

My throat is sore, my voice is hoarse, my knuckles are bleeding and I’m sweating like crazy. A half hour ago I was trying to drive up my driveway; After a full day of work and an evening movie with friends. Just two days ago there was a three foot blizzard. You would think that after two days a driveway should be clear enough, right? Wrong. Whats even more wrong, I’m beginning to realize, is my ability to handle extreme stress calmly. Now if you were to meet me, hang out with me, become friends with me, hang out for any extended period of time, you would think that I was a very calm and very nice person. And about ninety percent of the time you would be correct. Just don’t push me to my breaking point. I’m telling you right now it is not pretty. I have only gotten this mad because of my father, and when mowing my lawn. Two equally frustrating things, right? Well now I can add not getting up my driveway to my explosion triggers. Lets go through what actually happened. I don’t want everyone thinking I’m unstable. Although, I may just be a little. After the snow storm we got plowed once. To plow three feet of snow off of a quarter mile long driveway is a huge undertaking. But you would think a professional would be able to do this no problem. So would I! So I drive home after being snowed in at my friends house for two days. I couldn’t get up the driveway. In fact it didn’t even look like the guy plowed the steepest and curviest part. There was still about four to five inches left. Oh well, after two tries I give up and park at the end, talk to my parents about them getting it re-plowed properly the next day while I’m at work. Problem solved. And here we are after a full day of work and hanging out with friends. I’m positive he’ll have cleaned it off enough to get up tonight. I’m dead wrong. (I appear to be a bit too presumptuous too.) Anyways, after three tries, four to five screaming fits, a stop/walk up to the house to grab an ice scrapper and snow shovel, ten minutes of snow clearing, another fifteen minutes spinning my tires, some more screaming fits and some punching of inanimate objects, (inside car roof, outside car roof and garage door) and a two AM screaming conversation with my father about how I want to kill the plow man, here I am. A pretty ugly sight I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I hyperventilated in there somewhere but I’m not sure. It’s all a blur. Anyways, after the conversation with my father, in which I took out more of the anger that I started to take out on myself, I find out that my father saw the man who plows our driveway at the beer store. He was getting beer for his family and his crew after having worked forty eight hours straight. To which my father added he looked like hot shit. Here is where I start to calm down. I feel like the biggest baby in the world. I never took into account what this man had been through the past forty eight hours. Had I kept my calm state that I’m normally in, I would have just parked my car after two tries and gone home to take care of the problem. Nope, I exploded. Am I unstable? Was my blow up justified? Will I learn to deal with stress better because of this? Well I hope I do learn something. If not about myself, maybe about dealing with stress. Maybe I’ll learn not to be such a bitch. Maybe I’ll think more about the other side of the situation, What the other person was going through. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. If I can get up the driveway.