Lying on a black, soft surface. Staring at a screen where figures move, electronic chirping, a dangling darkness from the white ceiling, muffled engines beyond the trees, cool air yet to be warmed by the sun, observing that space where the breath leaves the body.
Doing a video off YouTube, laid on a rubbery mat, T-shirt and shorts, trying to avoid hitting the chandelier as I stretch up, two smooth Kiwis showing me where to go next.
Yoga is a lifelong preparation for death.
YOU ARE READING
At the Gym with Allen GinsbergRandom
"I really would like to stop working forever-never work again, never do anything like the kind of work I'm doing now-and do nothing but write poetry and have leisure to spend the day outdoors and go to museums and see friends. And I'd like to keep l...