Material Life

Absolute science and art of being whole at one and under no delusion that mankind (or nature) give a **** whether you amount to something or not. Narrowed down nothing nothing but matter matters, matter, content of life (serious, love it) hate death, for the hell of it, to see what it's like in the heart of darkness. Deeper and deeper I go but who would bother to kill me or love me? Belonging to the drums of wooful war I woof and bay like every other dog. Down I go to the depths of material life the material is spirit wrought by the material world. The drum and jet plane the bird and sumac the pollen seed. No answer is forthcoming for the young fool importunes to ask too frequently the fool's question. What is my next move. He steps lightly and does not seem to care quite where. The material world is reality, my friend and sadness is the spiritual root without which the love-nut may be reached only by stretching the emotions bare raw, where desert delights exhibit movement in the sunlit light. Where none find their way without following leaders sometimes the wrong way. The path is apart from the dance or the dancer who cutting cross country laughs at his perennial fright of being caught outdoors, out of sight alone with the wind and rain for days on end in hiding. Up on the roof, the telephone ringing, books getting delivered to the library free, gratis, no fight, no love a meager understanding of what rolls the earth. Gravity rolls the earth (and may sometimes rock it) each of us achieving the gravity of a planet and pulling the world apart with our loves. Taking existence beyond the limits set for it, into the universe beyond We went out beyond the surf into the adirondack of trees waiting, wanting nothing, mountains wanting to grow slowly.