Mis en Cops

KNOWING

Things In place

Relentlessness

I DO too officer

The things I have

In the places I can put them

Like gear in vehicle

Paper Towels like small shield

folded, folded quick

placed and then eyed

Reclusive-Social-Recluse

Ambient Street Knowing Inviting Engagement

Strangers Words Saying It So

A Baiting Attack from Ignorant Sleep Jaw On Invisible Ears

Believe it No

Staying focused

thoughts of self as homeless-professor-student

Outside Compute with Library Seat

Tobacco and Ganja from around the corner wafting

Police in the plaza

Hit and miss stanza

with real deal kitchen moment

words on pizza paddles for order up

now teacher and friend word instead

is real doing this perception?

White truck driving

passion mind and judgment arising

Aggressive man in truck says you yell too

Compassion is supreme white truck

Compassion is supreme

Gear, Car and Gun

Attachment to Self like GarageBuddha

They were guns to them

GarageBuddhaLikeTriggerFinger

To do-I-shoot’em cop

Remembering hometown bound

a nervous system seat

uncertainty and quite mind with lurking

Now Feeling of Nonself like Intersecting,

Head like voice box, Swelling with Energy

Bahgghghghhgh! No Lament Jaw Closes

Neither Pleasure or Pain, then Suffering, then Cessation

IdentityProfile

ManipulationAdjust

AdjustPersonalName

AdjustFacebook

GeneralDeliveryPostOfficeID

WritingLikeKitchenMenu

BourdainZietgiestSuicideProblemPersists

Relentlessness

MedicineHospitalandPolice

Cop says you are threat, Medic agrees

and so goes the moment

Relentless help roles the mind over itself

Liberation kneaded back into absorption once again

“Just short of prisoner…”

from a voice unattached

DesertFreedomLikePistol

CrazyDesertYogiInOffroadCamry

NoGunInArizonaGetsYouMeditationwithBabyBobcat

Feeling free, thought like prison

Thought like free, feeling painful

Desert gunfire morning and night

VeganBeefTruckConflictAtBoundryLine

InstantChangeLikeBuddhasToe

Touching the Ground for Instant Adjust

Movement like work hands

Poetry on a Pattern

On old kitchen time

like 5pm pizza dough

Surpassing the 5pm construct

IT was just a matter of time

The mind body melding

a matter of time meeting feeling and perception

The ultimate realities and the abandonment

The applied and sustained thought

They were thinking, thinking.

High Mind, Low Mind

The Headphone Voices

The Slurring Eyes

Concept of happy felt like smiling

I hope they are happy

through what construct do I find you

or is this you

the managing and labeling of things

the stories

the facts

CansOfBeans in TheDriversSeat

EatingFromPassangerSeat

FoodInDriversSeatKeepsCarInPlace

StomachFeelsLikeProblems

Police stomach expanding

a meaty butchers block

GarageBuddhaPassengerWithDriversStomach

GarageBuddhaDriving

StomachMovingLikeAlien

PressingOutward

BreathingLikeNoLung

LikeMotionofBreathingDoesNotMoveAir

Compassion for Stomach

Compassion for Officer

SufferingStomachLikeBoundandStrechingImpossible

ThenOfficerRelentlessnessAgain

SoToughSoRestrainedSoAbleToAgress

LoneManTreatedLikePredator

AggressiveWithSpitFix

JustShortofHatred

At Hatred I Turned

BrokenBottlesOnBackofBike

BrokenDeliveryMoments

BrokenAppleProductsInTheRoad

The mind outlet thought

The blame of knowing and doing

One layer of detachment

Then another

This is not mine

This is not mine

This is not mine

This is not mine

This I am not

This is not myself

My friend, My friend

Now vanish from me if you can

and we will both be wiser for it

now what is to be done?