Tea Cups or Shot Glasses? - April 10, 2026

with an ahhhhh

I surrender my cold frame

into the warm jungle-print cushion

of the chair facing the golden morning

face, arms and legs ecstatically

make love to the sun, a pleasure

to offset the other burdens of a

soul trapped in an aging carcass

I notice our spirits don’t age

like our bodies do, so clearly

designed for incompatibility -

a marriage fated for divorce

can you imagine life after this one,

single again with no physical form?

awareness without touching   tasting

smelling   seeing or hearing

seems like a hollow existence

if you like, I can put the kettle on

or should I find something stronger

to lubricate the conversation

wherever it goes