without worms there would be no flowers

 without leaves there would be no leafblowers

what good is it to cultivate an affect where you watch life as if it was hot sand poured into your eyes

what good is it to scream into a horn while buried in the ground

I could go along as a bird does. Sitting in a tree and chirping and singing, with a wide field of vision and moving my head in jerky robotic motions as if fixated on a tiny bug between blades of grass

would it mean so much to try to live honestly? could I do anything different even if I tried?

there are no secrets. everything is on display always. the speed of a bat's wing. a dance overheard. the swirl and turn and pivot of warm evening air.

I can go on this way as long as I please. As long as this way to go on pleases me. 

breaths counted out. languish and bloom languish and bloom languish and bloom.

Fruition is not derived from the word 'fruit'. It's from the Latin fruit to enjoy or use.