Snapshot
Poetry
the rugged thunder and flashes of light
did not prevent me from having the planned solo picnic.
I dodged most of the rain bath by sitting under a tree shirtless
while eating one of my favorite meals: a bowl of white rice and two fried eggs.
when I was done chowing, there was nothing to do, so I sat
back and let the humidity melt away any kind of reactionary pull toward comfort.
after a while, different perspectives began to cook up. Here is one of them:
in the West when we take our first sip of achievement and clamp down on our initial bite of consumerism, we start to feel dumber and dumber but it’s not unpleasurable so we keep on doing it.
years, maybe decades pass, and for some cosmic reason, you take a picture of your life and see that all those sensations that have owned you do not endure. this photo becomes a render that will outlast your heartbeats.
after holding this, my blood warmed, the rain stopped, and there was a break in the clouds which doubled as a rest from becoming.
