When the BBC, so civilized bleats its 15-second footnote on the gravity of the growing poverty of women and the children in the world and goes on to an hour on the cricket scores, the goings on of tennis, racing, golf scores Let it ripple past you float through the window to the surrounding hills Don't pull it through your teeth or chew it with your heart Heave a deep sigh go on
Walk the hills ignore the rising heat the tar-scorched earth beneath your feet the broken branches of the stunted trees the raw gashes
in the graveled land the birds fluttering anxious from the trees the pining bees the frantic langur shinnying up a half-dead tree to escape the adolescent scream of city wheels Ignore the dust rolling from the plains the truck-screech shift of gears the cicadas' pleas
Imagine yourself happy smile wait for God to reappear and smile.
- excerpt from Imagine Yourself Happy by Arlene Zide [x]
