the human condition

a memory splices into the line and
judgment hangs up on me
on impulse i grab first available action and
hurl it at my next step no matter
how much shit it lands in

circumspection is on vacation and i
circumcise my conscience



  1. Oh, Marya! Thanks for commenting at my blog. Also, must tell you, you flung this poem at us with great abandon. The idea of the next action being thrown at your next step, the opposite of mindfulness, I loved every soupcon of this poem… even the bris! Amy

    1. Amy, thanks so much for your visit and comment. The bris is an attempt at winning a bet with myself about being unable to write poetry that involves circumcision. Now I am just confused about who won. Thanks again.

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