We haven’t room to simply
let down our hair and full-Being flow
anymore (. . .  did we ever?

We try at clubs, through music
laughter and loving children,
through food and hobbies, but

We live lives of stuttering action
pinned like fading butterflies to an
event-oriented oblivion.

It’s not modernity but rather the building
blocks of society(so squished and without
/   S      P      A      C      E) that lead to this
controlling sentiment that drives life’s flow
out of life itself(we work to live, not
the other way around) —

but it’s the flow of everything together
that drives life
through the veins of every extant creature here,
every
green photosynthesizer and the rock of geo
-logic earth. . . tune in
to an eonic rhythm, in which there are
no exact answers — even with all knowledge
writ in mountains; the only way
of finding them is to live into them
gently allowing your unnecessary and
slowly resolving, revolving baggage to
become a legendary heap of nourishing
compost, your fossils to be buried,

tectonically shifted — melted, even —
but rhythmically .

/            The human life was never meant
/            to be a machine, functioning at full
/            capacity.

Humus, we are
/         as organic
/                 as the Earth.

c. Kate Gough, journal 2016

[ I try my best to represent the formatting as I would like it to be, but WordPress is very unfriendly to poetry! ah well. ]