Biofeedback

Perhaps I have meditation
all wrong, and it isn’t about
finding the off switch. The way

trees swaying in the wind
stay so firmly seated makes me
think I too need to delegate

all decision-making to mushrooms.
Collecting sunlight could be
my whole vocation; never mind

the masked vigilantes running riot
in my imagination. Not every trip
unfolds according to plan. But

I have acquired an apparatus
dearer to me than any pet
with which to concentrate the mind.

So sleek a device—plastic married
to metal. If only I could remember
how to turn it on.

OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES

• A Week of Kindness
• Herbaceous
• Crushed
• Breast Man
• Manic Pixie Dream Consultant
• Lord of Misrule
• Lilium martagon
• Cat Person
• Escape Artist
• Provincial
• Black site
• Love Machine
• Lionheart
• The Song of the Womb
• Fallen Woman
• Postmortem
• Floating World (Ukiyo)
• Insomniac’s Revenge
• Travel Anxiety
• What Does the Shadow Know?
• Exile
• Desecration
• Bubbly
• The Comeback Kid
• Outside-in
• Sequestered
• White Lady
• Invested
• Mater
• Blow
• Submission
• Biofeedback
• Public Servant