I meet you
And there is a tension.
Loving kindness, loving for all
Never let anyone out of your heart
Even as they look down on you
Or flip you off
Or doubt, fundamentally, that anything could come of you.
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Nothing here folks
Mental Enemas.
And inside, on a bare wood floor, with bare walls,
I would sit
Before the plate-glass window
Advertising nothing
Selling nothing
Perhaps in home-spun cloth.
if i could figure out how to work one of those spinning wheel things.
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