Freedom Story

After eleven years of slaving over the hot stove
a yellow bird came to
tell her she didn't have to do it anymore. This freedom

was all consuming, like a grease fire
late at night when all you have to fight it is a grease
monkey fire. "Where will I go?" she asked herself.

"What will I do without this claptrap husband of mine,
this virtual Tiger Woods of a bitch?"
What is the opposite of sitting in a patch of flowers?

What is the square root of decision?
"It's not an emergency," she thought, "I can stay here for as long as I like."
Silent dreamer! I want to hatch from a dragon's egg!

We need more training to leave the dojo.
Seventeen years isn't a short time at all to become a master.