I swept my Temple with my eyelashes and blamed God

I swept my Temple with my eyelashes and blamed God
for the drudgery. Drank tea with a mouthless Saint.
And slept in the noise of my dire straits-
with all the moxy afforded a wayward
lout with a stout heart and a pen.
I made my mistakes. and punji sticks. 
i gathered my cerebellum into ajar
to speak to doors fluently
with errant photons
and velvet shadows
the length of 
almost
closed

after ‘ lights out ‘

adrift upon my column
of Now.
Inert and Yielding
all the same.

No Doubt.