Welcome to the integral states of up and becoming polypathologists,
deep MindSense/BodyFeel ecologists
listening graceful co-mentors before gratefully speaking
Past Yang political Angers
recreate Future Yin-Fear of hated economic decomposition,
recreating Future YinYin Fertility
of WinWin healthy regenerativity.
Let us check our polypathic receptors together.
What do monocultures smell like to you?
Like death maybe?
What about monopoly of ownership and power?
Smells too hot-humid-sweaty for me.
And, not that fresh sweat either.
That old dried-in rank
building up in some dark closed airless
locked up silo of uncirculating fat deposits
for months without acknowledged end.
What about monochromatic?
Like death racing supremacist skin
and gut-burning ethno-arrogant fire.
OK then, now to brighter options.
What does polyculture smell like to you?
Like rich fertile soil
under sweet wildflower meadows
surrounded by lavender bushes
and wild cherries in my mouth
and on my dripping hands,
while stomping grapes into wine
that smells as rich and fertile as maple’s golden spring sap.
How about polymorphic fragrances?
and wooded forests of trees,
yet also bloody metallic-boned noses
and surfing seas
and a faint whiff of well-fed farty asses.
Fragrant fractal fusions of surfing saltwater
on a warm sunny day
with a cool pacific breeze
caressing my nose and eyes and ears and atlantic hair,
noticing horizons as clouds
yet also other seasonable opportunities,
reasonable dialectical dipolarity,
the equivo-ambivalent center of surf Yang Inhale
with Yin Stretching Out concave…
Sounds like a good day at the beauty beach.
No, that’s the smell of polypathy,
smells like money that’s been sea-salt stored
in a very special place
by a very special someone,
wanting to invest totally in me,
and Earth’s full Tribal health.
Polypaths smell like healthy cooperative wealth.
To me, anyway.
How ’bout you?