Thought stones

What if I’m so much less than I want to be?

dammed up filters,

and liver in my  onion flavored amygdaloid gall bladder 



to detox stiffs and stuffs and self-expectations 

which grow as harmlessly

 as slacks over a chair

nonetheless become rare 

tumors-exploding in shattered bottles on a barefoot beach

feet grasping driftwood dreams 

while hands throw grenades out to sea…


I can’t see , but feel in currents of me 

fueling ticking…

talking about all the stuff

I should do

grading my ego on a scale of 1-10

what if I order myself to let go of thoughtstones

throw the whole subconscious  seduction 


so I can learn 

to breathe 

through my nose…

grow dandelions in wheat fields 


cilia blowing in wind


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