Meditation can be a beautiful form of masturbation.

SOMEDAY I’LL BE BACK AT SCHOOL,
SKINNY OLDER LADY SAUNTERING ACROSS CAMPUS
WITH MY CUSHION AND MY HEAD COVERED,
IN JEANS AND A FLOWY SHIRT THAT SHOWS OFF MY SEXY ABS.
I DON’T NEED NO MAKEUP BECAUSE PEOPLE JUST LOOK INTO MY EYES –
ALWAYS MY EYES, BECAUSE I STILL TALK, BUT MORE,
I LOOK. AND LISTEN, AND THERE IS AN INFINITY OF MEANING
IN THOSE MOVEMENTS YOU MAKE
WHEN YOU DON’T SAY.

AND I REMEMBER THAT THERE WAS A TIME,
I WAS SO SO LOQUACIOUS AND I TALKED SO MUCH THAT I COULDN’T HEAR,
AND I EVEN TALKED SO MUCH I COULDN’T SEE,
AND SO I DIDN’T NOTICE THEN ALL THE QUIET THINGS NO-ONE SAYS OUT LOUD
BUT THEY SHOW IT, THEIR LITTLE MOVEMENTS BETRAY THE TRUTH
AND THAT IS WHAT I SEE, NOW THAT I FINALLY SHUT UP.

I’M TRAINING TO BE A TEACHER, BUT NOT THE REGULAR KIND
WITH GRADE-BOOKS AND CURRICULUM THAT MUST BE TURNED IN
OR LESSON PLANS – FOR GOD’S SAKE HOW COULD WE IMAGINE A LESSON PLAN FOR THIS?
I’M GONNA BE A TEACHER WITHOUT A PLAN,
JUST A FEW GOD IDEAS JOTTED DOWN ON THIS HERE POST-IT NOTE
AND A SHELF FULL OF BOOKS IN THE REAL WORLD AND ONE IN MY HEAD
THAT I HAVE BOOKMARKED AND HIGHLIGHTED AND NOW I TEACH
BY WATCHING WHAT YOU DIDN’T SAY AND THEN I REMEMBER
THAT I READ SOMEWHERE THAT SOMEBODY ALREADY SAID THAT
SO I HELP YOU OUT WITH THE WORDS, GIVE YOU THAT TEACHER
WHO CAME BEFORE I BOOKMARKED THEM
SO THAT I COULD LOOK AT YOU HERE AND NOW AND REMEMBER THEM
AND CONNECT YOU TWO BACK UP WITH EACH OTHER. ISN’T THAT NICE?

BUT I’M NOT SOME FUCKING CHARLATAN PSYCHIC OR MADAME OR ANYTHING.
THIS IS THE REAL KIND OF FORMAL OFFICIAL ACADEMIC SHIT UP IN HERE
WITH LETTERS AFTER MY NAME AND EVERYTHING
AND YOU TRUST ME WITH THAT AND SO ARE LURED IN BY THE ACADEMIC ILLUSION
BUT I REMEMBER THE GOD STUFF THAT WAS MORE TRUE THAN IMPORTANT,
AND I’M TOTALLY HAPPY TO HOOK YOU UP.

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