habit is a behavioral addiction
this is an open secret
yet there is self-affection hiding inside it
movement gives adequate disguise
the mind rides shotgun along side
all of space provides a here-to-there staging
theatrics is what the mass of this occupies
but no one escapes potential audience appraisal
so social camouflage is constantly implored
what is freedom, is this morass?
momentary muddledom amassing retort potential
acting out has no specific source or cure
just the barn-door of this moment, opening
and the residence of release is formalized
every movement is a wellspring sneeze if done well
serenity is achieved without default or compromise
every near-death is that which approaches as experience
how madcap can one’s unconsciousness be?
habit could do the explaining but won’t
the irrational is rich with reward and self-reprimand
habit richly lives in that illogical foreign land
the truth of each of us is subterfuge routinely practiced
where wisdom is not the reward but the enterprise . . .