My good heart –

Photographs of pale brown Easterlies, third world exotic, sandal people moving uphill, slide-climbing, bio-mechanical negotiation of snow-capped mountains to speak with the Gods, gather vegetation, take home red meat, bury their dead, none of it excites me, doesn’t salivate my glands.
Here in the Homeland, I can watch beggars, ‘bums’ and the mentally ill all reap reward from Dumpsters, black bag garbage piles, and climb social services bureaucracy.
Distance donation gives me inner good news before empty escapes my cosmological significance.
I’m a great and good man forming others in better lives.

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