In the face of a Fear, castigat ridendo mores.

Joy unshaded by fear's an exercise
of bravery, disciplined rebellion
an existence of greater compassion,
love in the face. a necessity carved
from monolith wealth's deceptive marble
so sumptuous but for frigid baroques,
but barriers boasting shadows of shame,
no caress, no one's friend, a soft mommy
whose love through all your petulance somehow
grows for you.
          Embrace, take broken dad down.

We few who align in freehealing care--
small perversities of understanding,
though our medicine cushion brains disown
radiation of ignorance, though ours,
violent division, ours, empathy
ours, man en masse, our grown-over system,
(the damn thing), ours, as discolored people,
whiteset beads unfeeling in currency,
eyes full of cash, crusted over with it--
all ours. Real is the man in our hearts.
Purple luna illuminates denial,
the false doors of regret, quantum being.
Her grace to hold our multitudes,
uphold whole vials uncracked of broken
sisters alike.
          No, there is no evil.

All unforeseen illnesses, yet-to-be
organ failures & obstructions. They drink
deeply. We drink because fuck it, we can
fuck even when our bodies won't work. Joy--
a shameless channel of motivation,
light to eschew fear's puckered ignorance,
its damning cacophony, its powdered
clown wig face made over in dementia,
bloated by the dull press of death's abscess
incapable to recognize absence,
dull palate of resistor embrace denies
& starves pulsating, capable brainstems.
Awareness, in joy--
           the flux of presence.