yoga farts

farting in yoga class is always kind of on the fence between smelly and funny. Like any fart, but the stakes are a bit higher– reminders to “breathe deep” heighten either effect.
The other day I was doing yoga shirtless, and this is generally something I try to avoid– not tryna be a bear man with the shirtless workout thing goin, or even a lithe man with spider limbs entwining for each bind (this latter for lack of ability)– but of course I was also farting shirtless in yoga class, and worried about what this did to my already uncomfortably-exhibitionist workout.

I discovered a source of possible salvation when rounding my arched back while lying down. The effect was like releasing a hamburger-patty-lined plunger: A very sloppy fart sound, and I thought “If i just made this sound frequently enough, it will be rendered ludicrous, the idea that anyone would loose this many very sloppy farts during one yoga class.” Not only this– but presumably the “fart sound” would overtake the “fart” as the most plausible explanation of previous farts, and forgiveness would extend backward through my entire fart-history.

It’s hard to say, how the fart sounds were interpreted, or how farts would have been received if understood as farts. All that can be said, in retrospect, is that I’m not very good at meditating.


okcupid limericks

Some like the heat,
some like the cold.
some like the beach,
or the mountains and snow.

Some dig pajamas,
some dig croquet.
I think I could go either way.

In a green garden, in orange and red plaid
hitting the ball, scratching my head–
did I make this wicket?
How could I have missed it?
It was right there before me
but my ball only kissed it!

deep blue with a pale sullied stripe
(rolling in dirt, washed over in dew)
my ball rolls by swiftly
(alas) it does not roll true
You saw how I hit it,
you saw what I did.
Failures happen so quickly,
success never did.

Stuck at a tea party
on my rich friend’s yacht
laughing and rolling
and eating a lot
Who could have said truly
A riot I’d start
when I ordered sushi
for deliv’ry at dark
It was came after dusk
(well, well before dawn)
the guests were all hungry
They came down like a swarm.

Who could say truly
“you just must do you”
if hunger drives us
to devour our crew?

An insect lays eggs
A kangaroo hops
Humans do actions
and must pay their rent

between these constraints
(and hunger and thirst)
we all have the freedom
to do what we want

it is a cliche,
or may be perhaps
a willing lapse
(as we forgo reason,
and abandon the past.)
But before I go on
I must surely admit,
I do do like your slogans,
and more than a bit)

but surely we take them
with a cautious attitude
so we don’t fall in error
and believe we could be:
doin’ ourselves, doin’ our best–
’cause what could that mean if
who does what to whom?