A poem by Deva Dosa.
She tells me to let go.
No longer be so nice and considerate.
No longer park the car so precisely
That you spare the next person
Pain of squeezing between narrow lines.
No longer do you need approval.
Let rotten friendships drop like apples
Past their prime. Something new
Has arrived. Kick off this dirty
Blanket smothering your vivid life.
You don’t want these dull and broken
Faces circling you. You don’t want
The peeling paint, the sorrow of beggars
Toughened under a fierce sun.
You don’t want a million non-verbal
Agreements to shrink and fade.
Songs by dead people.
Tattooed by light and loved by water,
You are always free. Believe me, she says,
It is always
A much younger man.
Poem by Deva Dosa – photo by Madhav Krishna