Cut short by one syllable

It's incautious to snort
Hell's Angel's bathtub speed
without health insurance
off of white porcelain.

A kid doesn’t know any better

Con/Jur/d 7/31/2020

Dust motes in a seasonless

Room rest without effort in

A single ray of sunlight

Motionless-swirling captured.

a gentle tapping

Con/Jur/d 8/3/20

A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream, I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window-pane from the outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer (Cetonia aurata), which, contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt the urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment. I must admit that nothing like it ever happened to me before or since

Synchronicity: An Acasual Principle (1952)
The Collected Works of C.G. Jung
Paragraph 843
Princeton University Press Edition.

A ‘Real’ Human Moment
Con/Jur/d 10/14/2018

“Everything is mediated!”
He complains.

And I agree.
As you do,
when it’s
down to two --
inevitably the story of being
alone in the wild,
on an island

and the Loons
who told him

“It’s OK to be here.”
Water and safe-
places World
as Sanctuary

And the inevitable
“A real Buddhist moment.”

and I’m like, “Why?
Why not Human?”
I do it too
Steal stories,

make them my own --
looking through their lenses
I know (When switching
glasses, dizziness is a
visceral ground. Forget
debates on what color,
the architecture
of prescription
is more direct.)

they’re refined sure, sure,
and so much more than
diagnostics statistics favorite
books and movies experiments
gone awry, there are motions
we share, maybe every damn one?

Stages, developments, progress
with and without a manual

some story about healing
And that time when I met
The Big J (or Y) and I
skipped the line while they

said words about
being saved and their
savings account being tallied
and the tellers
(Who all looked like P
but don’t tell him,
I mean with THAT Ego of hers)
waved me past the genuflects
the accounting, the bloody knees and the
“Weep if you’ve got ‘em,” hallelujahs,
because after all a cubit
changes depending on the Throne.

The important bit is
I got kicked out!
If you can believe it?
Kicked out because
I said (while being rendered)
“Human.” Just that.

And back to the Loons
and the time alone
Remember?

‘Til next time see you around the Corona Duck!