Uncategorized

Great New and Old Years

Terrorism,
threat of terrorizing shelters
and habitats
and wombs,
seeds and trees,
mountains and valleys,
forests and deserts and oceans,
fear and anger conjuring and mongering and marketing
do not work long-term
because co-passions of love do work
more cooperatively and therapeutically.

Expressing
and impressing
our sacred healthcare vocations.

War does not impassioned sustain
as defensive basis for a society’s
just politics or economics
because peace does work
toward compassions of a culture.

Slavery and habitat-less-ness ultimately fail
because integrity’s empowerment
is passionately more vital.

Evil does not compassion health
because full integrity of loving does
eco-passion
within Earth’s revolving anima mundi,

Gaian Principles of Sacred Original DNA-RNA Solidarity Intent,
Holy Democratic Equivalence Matriotic-Patriotic,
Yin-Yang
Eco with Ego,
EarthSoul habitat and identity’s EgoShelter,
Nature-Spirit nondual co-incarnations
CoMentor ReStorative Therapies

Rather than teaching Earth’s military-industrializing LeftBrain dominant adolescent excesses,
we could LeftRight reach
for how and why and when
we have the justified self-righteousness
to blow each other up,
put each other desacralizing down.

These primary judgment and justice tasks
of democratic educational integrity,
parental maturity and lifeskills,
humane ego-ecological wisdom,
listen with Earth’s harmonious Native NatureSpirits,
teach WinLose adolescents,
questioning EitherOr Traditional Assumptions,
about how and why and when
we best share this cooperative WinWin vocation
to grow integrity’s EarthSoul habitat co-passions,
egocentric health
AND ecopassionate wealth.

Remembering
reweaving
resonant SacredWombs
DNA phylogenic growing
EarthMother ego-shelters,
skins,
bellies,
bodies
with bilaterally extending
polypathic=polyphonic
4D spacetime sacred deep ecology minds,
made WinWin originally
of regenerative sacred habitual intent.

Retribution,
threat of removing ReStoration’s regenerate EarthSoul shelters
and habitats
and wombs,
seeds and trees,
mountains and valleys,
four-seasoned forests
and surfing bilateral healthy oceans,
through fear and anger conjuring and punishment-mongering
and divinely inspired ecopolitical marketing
cannot ecologically survive long-term
because co-passions of love do
Work That Reconnects
ReStores,
ReWeaves,
ReLigions,
ReGenerates,

ReHealthyFrames
wealthy bilateral
Tao of Fractal-Vital-CoAnimated/ing Time.

Spiraling inductive in,
breathing deductive out

Breathing sacred EarthSoul habitat in,
breathing secular seductive shelter out

Breathing coempowering mind in,
breathing warm nurturing heart out

Breathing retributive acclimations in,
breathing restorative ego-ecojustice out

Learning dangers
of retributive WinLose choices early,
Mentoring WinWin restorations
of EarthSoul Abundance,
ultra-violet non-violent revolutions,
peaceful outcomes later.

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Uncategorized

This Is UnFinished Feminist Us

It’s peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows sound happy
with warm October sunlight.

I just read about a deadly gathering in Las Vegas.
Absence of sun-drenched peace.
Inconvenient this time of lost loss.
Death is always inconvenient,
even when invited.

A veteran,
about my age,
this shooter.

I feel like it took more than one
to hold and fire this mental illness rifle.
In a sad and guilty complicit sense,
we have collectively achieved what we bought
and sold
and settled for.

This malformed soldier
is a remnant of what most believed we needed to create,
back in the 60s,
brainwashed into believing
we were protecting wives and kids, somehow
by killing Vietnamese husbands
and many times their wives
and napalmed children,
trees,
forest.

Not exactly breeding ground for growing healthy minds
and well-armed bodies.

I dimly and darkly recall
a much earlier disagreement
with the new commander of the U.S. Navy’s
Officers Candidate School.
A first woman commandant,
something atrociously surprising to men-only militia violence,
similar to Medea
planning an angry hostile life.

This earlier time also started peacefully alone,
but inside,
waiting to be called in to her office,
at the beginning of her second week
in her new exalted position
over new violence-empowered candidates.

I had just completed a gratuitous violence first week of abuse
and militarily precise neglect,
as ruthlessly systematic as racism,
in frigid first week of January,
Rhode Island.
We were so close to the Atlantic
it felt like we were in the ocean.

We had also been frigidly outside,
and hotly inside,
yelled at,
systematically starved,
force marched in gusty zero-degree 3 AM darkness
without coats or hats or gloves,
in fact I think we were in our boxers and Tshirts one night,
due to someone’s sin of omission,
whether contrived on schedule
or spontaneously erupting
from pneumonia reduced and disabled minds,
I do not know.

The hardest part for me
was less than two hours sleep per night.
Industrially guaranteed to reduce oneself to crazy.

When I was first ushered in
for my early exit interview
by none other than her Military Medea Mightiness,
she took one look at miserably civilian dressed me
and asked why would I think it appropriate to disrespect her
by not bothering to show up in uniform.

I started to mention that I had never been issued one
when she told my keeper
that we needed to do an about face
and try again when I looked right.
Or at least as righter
as I might become.

So, he had to go out among my now-former classmates
to beg and borrow,
hopefully he didn’t steal,
boots and belts and pants and shirt and hat.
Later that same long and tedious day
I was once again summoned
for a second shoot.

She wanted to know
why I thought it was OK
to be the first to go
from this new class of officer candidates.
Did my recruiter not explain about this first hazing week?

Well no,
in fact I thought he told me hazing is illegal
in most States.
We develop soldiers;
we don’t grow bullies.

I understand you didn’t make a total ass of yourself.
So if you want to change your mind,
now that we turned the heat back on
and keep the lights off all night
and have turned the verbal abuse down a notch,
or maybe two,
I might be willing to listen
if you beg me nicely to stay here
with us in Navy Officer Paradise.

No thanks,
said I,
I’m already quite disgusted enough
by your shocking lack of even militarized intelligence
to see this as a navy not invested in preserving,
much less protecting,
real live humanity
hanging onto some semblance of sanity.

Oh but you see
this is not true.
Our rules of first week operationalization
are to save your sorry ass
because,
as we all know,
teamwork builds through ego assassinations.

Well no,
actually,
your own recent research on these issues
lies at my fingertips.
Required reading for psych and communication majors,
attitude change and persuasion students
where I hail from in Michigan.

It is a clear and present common threat to survival
that most quickly grows cooperative trust and teamwork,
cooperative co-investments,
especially among those who have learned to trust and respect each other,
including for our recognized
and understood and
appreciated diversity
of talents.
and shared sufficient simplicity of sleep
and active co-listening for harmonic voices.
Or maybe that was just for choirs
and military orchestras.

Well this is fake news to me!
she exclaimed in her sternly patriotic face.

I believe you,
which is why
I want out
of this absence of healthy care
and any semblance of sanity,
disloyal to my family’s investment,
my nation’s rational self-governing future,
and anathema to Sacred Mother Earth.

Are you Native American,
asked she,
as if she couldn’t care less or more.

No more or less than you
I would surmise.

It came as no surprise
when she eagerly accepted
my request to be relieved
of further dishonored service
and cast aside my various borrowed parts
because of ecopolitical leaders
confusing noble grace of unity
with bare-knuckled
bare-headed
frozen uniformity.

I wonder how the Green Beret shooter
in lost loss of Las Vegas
might have suffered from this same sad loss
of militarized teamwork disabilitization,
chronic and critical climates of constant stress.

When the enemy is down
and out of sight,
we cannot afford to have disaffected grunts
sit on angry-fearfilled butts
rethinking who is truly in my ego team’s best interest
and whom we might agree to take out next,
because healthy mental care giving and receiving
has nothing to do with formation
of militarizing violence.

In this same way,
a Presidential God Bless You,
twittered to victims of our own militarizing violent formations,
feels so empty,
fake as the blesser
would do even lesser
mental health care and receiving
for all God’s militarizing
and industrious We Win
So You Must Lose
soldier candidates in deformation,
but also neglected children
and trees,
and starlight
which could bring us together
in one mind of great thanksgiving.

 

So I was feeling badly,
sad,
because I share our mutually complicit status
for my compatriot’s difficult terrorizing
chronic stress disordering
time.
I too have been there,
lost there,
to a more moderate extent.
I just walked away.

I wish I had done more at the time
in the Navy’s January frigid spaces
against cooperative ecopolitics,
about being of more general use
if fascist critical events of the mid-seventies had been recorded,
freezing dark military-academic preparation time
industriously repeating
away from deforesting further virgin ecofeminist Vietnam forests
and their matriarchally cooperative villages,
to become watched on YouTube
by all prospective soldiers
and NRA advocates,
by patriotic nationalists,
thinking about possible antecedents,
before Bad Ol’ Daddy’s Country-Western Concert
went so very wrong.

I wish we could have recorded
this matriarchal confused and frightened patriotic
loyal commandantish face
when I shared with her
I felt ecofeminist disgraced
by her
Bitch!
Shoot at me again and I will Take You Out!!!
defacement,
in a most homophobic frozen officious place
of mutually inflicted terror.

So then I was feeling a bit more glad,
but still sad
I had not actually said more,
done more,
so I began trimming my twining tendrils
enveloping what’s left of uprooted deadwood trees
malingering in my back lot
and having a rough go of it
as my hedging shears
are no longer what once they were.

As usual,
I tend to speak with my plant recruits
and candidates for future flaming victories,
and felt required,
“I apologize
for this jab
and grab
and pull
and pushy ecopolitics,
but Mommy needs sharper,
and probably newer,
scissors for shutting up her
RightBrain EcoFeminist Diva Voice.

Apologizing to the entire human race”
of potential soldiers and ballistic deadwood downsizers
for your not yet having seen
that anti-feminist patriotic face
glare me back into space
with timeless time exclaiming
BITCH!
Shoot your GLBT EcoFeminist mouth OFF AT ME?
I DON’T military anti-ANTIfeminist THINK SO;

but I wonder how I feel about being this predator
in this eternal frame of egopolitical ignorance,
lack of cooperative military research
and economic-educational-formational intelligence gathering.

As I continued with hacking scissors
and played-out ecofeminist sawsall balls off
and the big manly Yang chopper offer
with their underdog heads!
I kept going back to those January freezing eyes.

IF LOOKS COULD KILL!!!
BITCH!!!!!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME
and think you can punk your gay white ecofeminist butt
in my guest chair
and think your MidWest Academic BullCrap
will even so much as reach one
WinWin Ping of inspiration
aspiration
hope,
YOU DON’T KNOW ME!
I might have majored in BullDike Fascist Terrorism!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME!!!

and maybe I don’t either.
Who wants to be that angry lose-lose antagonist
of military industrial absence of intelligence,
would you?

I wish this imaginary spacetime scene had played out
in RealTime frames just that audio way,
but even without sound,
with just her
I AM NOT YOUR BITCH!
but you are not going to be mine
either.

She could not sign those exit papers fast enough,
continues visual only images
of how I still feel,
more or less
about these tangled vines
and tough deadwoods
hanging out in my wanna be ecofeminist backyard.

I will chop them up
and paint them
into diva totem poles
and frames
in which ecofeminists
always play in YouTube Blue and Green Estates
of most polyculturally
matriarchal peace in this back lot solitude,

Although occasionally the patriarchal husband
makes a cameo appearance
for a few All Lives Matter Moments,

But usually just me,
in an early October day
preferring to forget dark frigid January anti-feminist nightmares
of militarized neglect
of basic health assurance and safety
delivered by angry matriarchal commandants,
and hedging shear divas,
depending on which lens is in play,
the full-staged historical tragedy
within my more personal back lot comedy.

 

It’s still peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows have flown off
warning descent of warm October sunlight.

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Uncategorized

Slice and Dicey EcoFeminists

We could invite many ways
to slice and dice the prism
EcoFeminist.

I first ran into this label
when spoken by a sexual advocate
in the early 70s
at the University of Michigan,
from the mouth of a transgendering ecofeminist
who felt more matriotic about land and people and plants
than patriotic about a nation and state
whose laws,
and the paternalistic parents of those laws,
declare s/he had no right to exist,
certainly not propogate.
No right to love
whom s/he loved
in her proud
and loyal
and honorable
and grateful ecofeminist way.

I can more dimly hear ecofeminist
as an ecologist
who happens to also be a feminist,
but this lacks sufficient resonance and resolution for me.

I can hear ecofeminist
as feminist
who also happens to know about her/his natural environment
and yet this planet inspires feelings of fertile interdependence
as healthy
and would better expire laws of nature
devoid of wealthy co-relationship,
wherein human nature
stands godlike patriarchal and supremely above
our agribusinesses of generic commodified nature
to declare humane wealth
measured only by this quarter’s productivity
intended to leave all fields and forests and oceans barren
before moving on
to our next hostile ecopolitical takeover.

To me,
fully articulating my ecofeminist heart and mind
cannot separate this scientist of Earth’s biosystems
from our fertile-loving nurturance of health,
our most abundant echoing and regenerating cross-trained selves.

EcoFeminists
fade and fail when personal health outcomes
are depoliticized from national and international lands and oceans,
as well as removed from local and bioregional wealth production,
without co-balancing healthy educational consumption.

Feminist ecologists
abundantly cooperatize, optimize,
when personal health ownership reflects our land and water,
fire and wind wealth of ecosystemic
economic
co-investing balance.

EcoFeminists
are radical cooperativists,
singers and dancers and self-entertainers,
planters as harvesters,
birthers before butcherers,
listeners before performers,
speakers
doers
seekers
learners and educators,
parents and mentors,
because this is who we were all born to become
to-gathering ecofeminists.

Our schools,
from preK through post-doctorate,
technical conservation through liberal arts and entertainment,
real estate through real organic wealth,
would each and all do a better job together
of nurturing and growing
and provisioning and providing ecofeminist leaders
if educational curricula
were more permaculturally designed
with ecofeminist divas in the rooms
and in the fields,
and on the seas and rivers,
and not so over infested with unnatural lawyers
who believe our vocations
are to settle for Win some secular health
by losing some sacred wealth,
to teach us why we must not healthy do
as we would most wealthily,
holistically,
cooperatively,
sacredly prefer.

I want to think and feel as a grateful ecofeminist of grace
at school
and church
and mosque
and voting booth
for whom health and wealth
smell and feel and talk together
like Yin reweaving Yang
in co-ecofeminist solidarity,
deep learning regenerations
of (0)Sum
WinWin producing YangSpace
as also consuming Yin PrismedTime.
——————————————
Neither ecofeminist educators
nor prisms
could wisely argue
about which lens is most correctly primal
or (0)-prime best.

Healthiest is cooperatively wealthiest
with us all holonic,
Yang sending as Yin receiving
simultaneously WinWin.

Which is the Greatest God of All?
disputes do not emerge from prisms,
rather prisons and schools
and bad faith communities
and fake news communications
of retributive WinLose monopolies
devolving toward LoseLose anti-systemic theories
and nihilistic hypotheses
filling in
until our return to restorative mercies and joys
conjoining EcoFeminist Gaian Principles and Procedures
toward more polyculturing prismatic outcomes
of deep
and rich
and wide nutrition,
health optimizing wealth,
planting seeds of wisdom as we have always eco-harvested.

 

 

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So Let Me Tell You

So let me tell you,
if I’m looking between lives
with multicolors
and gentle genders
and green cards
in one graceful hand,

And Trump-heavy President fixation
away from restoring
Earth’s ecojustice for All
on the other RightWing denomination,

Then let me tell you
seeking Trumpish twitters
of self-congratulating trumphalism
as more patriotic
then loyal honored deep Yintegrity

On Gaian liberated knee
as if too matriotically humbled
to stand for Yangish
and self-righteous thee,
then let me tell you
I am so very quite sure
your poppa raised White elitist you
to spell anti-matriotism
with a positive patriotism Peee
only while standing up
as royal Thee.

And let me vice versa tell you,
if you find loyalty
and honor,
civility and mercy
and compassion taking on a matriotic knee,

Then your Momma,
well let me tell you,
she spelled patriotism ecologically right
with left,
bicameralishly.

Which, if you spell justice
with domestic peace of clear blue mind
you suspect dipolar
co-arising
matriots
of bipolar disarray
too wild left,
and let me tell you,
no way we’ll move love with Mother Earth diminished
down to a way out somewhat sleazy loose-lived girl
only good for lunch.

It just might become our hunch
hanging out with a more permaculturing bunch.

 

Note: For me this piece works best as jazz riffs rooted in the melody for

When I Fall In Love…

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Uncategorized

Same Ol’ Song and Dance

As I look back across my more musical times
of rhythmic reflections,
ceremonies and commemorations
of each dawn and dusk eremitic liturgies,
if that is not an oxymoron
of sound and sight,
song and dance,
tragically sad, yet also bilaterally bound with happier chance
of liturgical comedies
reflected upon together.

And as we look out through all our co-diva taoist days
like pages of leaves we have co-written,
we grow one primordial Tipping Point,
that we are each both tragic
and most abundantly comedic
when held together
through mutually revolutionary
Bodhisattva Warrior eco/ego-identity.

And,
with our ends held together,
what matters most
to and for and of all of us,
is when we have fed tragic
and where we have bled comedic
into the transparently naked (0)Remainder WinWin Othernest
as soon as therapeutically possible.

When was the last time
you turned to whomever, always present,
sitting next to your Leftsaid,
with at least one exclamation point,

That was totally Yang-awesome!

It might have been at the end of a song
heard for the first time
in a particularly deep and rich,
and possibly a bit also high,
way.

Or maybe during a dance
that was totally radical,
perfect to each beat
each lyrical swell and ebb
filled with athletic grace
of freakishly limber space
and centered
like a linear 4D pivot
we each potentially arcingly are
as we become this music’s dancing story,
beautifully
exquisitely reincarnating
us down
into your stage of life’s most recent crippling bow,
with tragic-comedy final statement,
tragedy of each end
with comedy of wonder
for each protagonist opera
in which our only antagonist
was perfect meeting of lyrically rhythmicizing here
with timeless now’s completely committed integrity
of ego/eco-consciousness
reweaving

Personal tragedy of missed integrity closes
to further comedies of dissonant clumsiness,
stumbles of feet and hands and mind
and pens
about dancing through life and death ourselves
as totally awesome
tragic-comedic ecopolitical choreography
with public sector lyrics
for what started out as a deeply personal
intimate
vulnerable liturgicalizing matriarchal-wombed life.

Or maybe Wow!
was when you were leaving church,
and mosque
and temple
and synagogue
and generic everyday BusinessAsUsual faith family,
smiling about
how to better dance
our mutual resonant opportunities,
to feed the juice
and starve the monoculturing weeds.

Wow! Totally awesome
love,
grace,
synergy,
creolization
Thanks for singing and dancing
and taking us to church
with you,
where we each belong
multiculturally YangHere with YinNow
bilateral balancing
and limber spiraling
together.

I awaken
to both the parent of special ecopolitical needs
and ecological opportunities,
but also the part-time Taoist hermit diva,
totally co-investing in WinWin liturgical planning,
each multiculturing day
within dawnspace harmonic singing Yang
through Yin dualdark
co-arising lyrics
with Bodhisattva EcoFeminist Warriors,
First Native International Cooperative Networks
each ego-anonymous
collegially remembering co-protagonists
of Earth’s tragic-comedic multiculturing sad despair
with silent democratic
solidarity
liturgically ecological matriotic
YangSong with WinWin dance,
here and also now
(0)Soul rhythms
of long slow stealthy blues as also green
balancing creolic outgoing choreography.

Antagonizing local people about their malingering protagonist rights,
their song as dance resources,
and their musically harmonic knowledge,
does not patriotically rest unchallenged.

Forest struggles
continue resisting buying and selling and renting of protagonist
song and dance forests,
including stories internal to India,
yet not in Asia alone.

Forest resacralizations resist secularizing diminishment
of forests for tragic exploitation
by patriarchalYang commodifying not (0)-interest profits,
and dipolar co-gravitating transubstantiation
from liturgically abundant ecological resources
for tragic song and comedic dance
back into a bad faith commodifying community.

Villagers sang and danced our tragic removal
demotion of rich ecoforests to mere positive productions
from notnot negatively dwindling reserves
asserting ego/eco-justice rights
to satisfy our basic
continuing together tragic-comedic needs.

Feeding critical tragedy for underdog lyrics
while bleeding sad danced systematic allegiances
against monocultural demands for fake-patriotistic choreographed events,
non-violent protests
were crushed by One Nation Don’t Mean First Nation,
cause I wasn’t born yesterday
or the day before that,
or before doing a really great job
of making more money
for some really good people
who just got caught up in the right place
in my best time
Trump,
among the USA evangelical faithful;
as crushed by British colonialism,
among Central Asian Bodhisattva ReForesters
and Eastern American First Nation PreForesters.

In the Himalayan mountain bioregion
the Chipko women’s movement
began liturgically embracing living MotherTrees
as their protectors,
their own source
of food
and fuel
and fiber
and fertile habitat.

The Onandaga First Nation School
reimagined how children might non-violently speak and move
their dawn hugged liturgies to remember alleged thanksgivings
for MotherTrees,
their hugs
hugging ours in music and danced liturgies
of Earth-allegiance gratitude,
basic positive cooperative
matriarchal song and dance
with Tipping Points
of taoist divas
dipolar co-arising
(0)-soul long slower bluesy terms
of jazz rhythmic
creolizing
song as dancing attitude.

As I look back across more musical times
of rhythmic reflection,
allegiance ceremonies and gratitude commemorations
of each dawn and dusk danced liturgy,
I look forward too.

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Patriotic Rhythm and Blues

If you believe professional athletes
should punch their Free Speech Rights out
when they punch in their employment clock,

Why is it fair
to also believe
you have not twittered out your violent
and racist
and sexist
Free NonViolent Speech Rights
when you laid hands on
and pledged your crossed-finger heart
to Presidential FakePatriotic AntiAllegiance
to One First Native MultiCulturing Nation,
for which it stands
under God,
not so much idolatrously and supremely above?

With growing equity, not supremacy,
and WinWin cooperative liberty,
not competitive WinLose violent
and ballistic
restricted TopSecret lobbying franchises,
and for ecojustice of, from, and for All

Species
and climates
and cooperative health care giving and receiving
ecopolitical reassurances
patriotic for ecojustice
inter-network nationed
Sacred Earth,

Headed toward polycultural-endorsing Free NonViolent Patriotic Speech Outcomes
and away from MonoCulturing Twitters
cheerleading Mindless Speech
as AntiAmerican Outputs,

Indulged and over-invested in too-Yanged strong word choices,
not suitable for young non-violent ears and eyes,
as if such were super-patriotic flag waving
and wearing
and wrapping,
rather than anti-matriotic hearts of loyal-honorable matters
of and for healthy Earth climates,
both inside Twittering
and outside polypathic ecopolitical incarnations.

You choose fake patriotism news,
but we,
both Left and Right,
permaculturally prefer
keepin’ it realtime jazzy gospel,
Sacred Matriotic Revolutionary Rhythm
and Timeless Blues.

Patriotism is about internalized mature growing commitment
to freedom
and justice
and equity
and mercy
and love
and justice,
and not at all about feeling teenage bullied to act in ways
that could only betray the integrity of your commitments
to freedom
and justice
and equity
and mercy
and love
and peace
and justice for and with All Earthlings,
singing and dancing our best rhythms
as yet timeless blues.

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MotherEarth’s RealTime Stories

Studying history
tries to be objectively subjective,
at its best,
when also a comparative study of Sacred Plantings and Harvests.

Not a coincidence,
unfortunately,
that when I studied Christian Church history,
we discovered a not-so-very-catholic co-arising GreatMen picture story
of historic and theological harvest,
but not necessarily ecological
because more anthropocentric objectives of Earth’s history.

Yet studying historic development of SkyWoman-resourced Turtle Island
is still largely confined to specialists
in EcoFeminist EcoPolitical Ancient History
of WhoCares Sacred Plantings and Harvests,
still RightBrain Yin-nurture oppression,
suppression,
within this objective-subjective
How to best deep learn ecopolitical history
of Earth’s sciences
and cultural GreatMen and SacredGoddess religions
and all things patriarchal-matriarchal enculturing
Left with Right
Yang with Yin, and not so much Yang v poor little dualdark Yin,
counter-balancing in-between
Tipping Points of Sacred plantings and Harvest Networks,
CoOperative Investments and EarthTribe’s ReInvestments
in (0)-Sum/Soul Sacred Seven ReGenerations
of MatriarchalEarth
historically studying objective-subjective
CoOperative BiCameral Tao-Networks.

In this alternative Left with Right ecofeminist universe,
it is immediately transparent
to all five co-empathic senses
why Donald Trump
would be much more GreatMen entertaining,
rather than PathologicalMan alarming,
as a Public CrossDresser,
trying to walk in his wife’s heels,
right behind her,
neither too left nor right,
where he belongs
if he knows what’s best for him
tonight.

And,
while I totally get it about not drinking alcohol,
I really do think Medical Marijuana
should be deeply and widely prescribed
within the District of Columbia
in response to our current epidemic
of Yang v Yin Oppositional Disorder.
Maybe we could at least cooperatively agree
on a health and climate care for
Sacred Plantings and Harvest
ego/ecobalancing budget.

And maybe think about
how our melting icecap and glacier issues
may be both related and unrelated to
12 foot reptiles hunting vulnerable prey on MainStreet Houston,
which seems not so good for national health care
or defense
or security,
or even anything resembling GreatMen rationality.

Standard