Yoga for the Autumn Mind

Unconsume yourself, open your pores and breathe out, says the yoga instructor.

I think that’s wonderful. I am eager and diligent and carved like a crescent into the heart of a curve. I face you.

We should have continued looking at the waterline that evening.

Somewhere between the water, the eyes, the light, the light—

You could not say. God was next door.

There is sun and water in a cup. I am leaving them here. Anoint the mind.

Break all your poems into songs. Warm and sweet, burki by burki.

Melt the text under the tongue, roll the letters, round and around.

Lisp yourself insane. Delight in the gentle tearing of meaning.

There is a war being fought somewhere. Send us word. Send us language.

Notice how every bell peppered fall breaks into a familiar tune.

Stay still till you are an autumn window.

Allow yourself to catch leaves and some noon fire.

And that dark healthy love. If you can, help it. If you can help it.