Unpack Poetic

Can’t hear things well if they are things whispering. Nothing gentle to hand on back of hand. A horsehair bow across gut string. A heart is a physical object singing in the chest. Chamber doors oxygenating blood rushing through. Salmon through river climb. When one writes of light as a painted smile across face. You call bullshit to the interpretation. A post re-posted significant meme image locked to words. Speak of Soul? Sounds like a grifter’s hustle. Don’t do it. Anyways, you try to place yourself into the nature poetry experience. In your nature placement, you’re constantly thinking of how you don’t like to shit outdoors. You like a toilet throne and a stall and toilet tissue. Your mind ruins beautiful poetry expressions by expressions before a flush. Yes, if you see a nature painting you ponder a spot to express self. Think of hole digging and burial afterward. A courtesy thing. Some mass crushing flowers. Or smeared across a granite slope. Is not a waterfall one constant flush? You mean, if you were to see this world through black-light vision, knowing everything covered in shit , this planet would be a beautiful glow.