A Burden Poem by Atef Ayadi

i'm not proving or disproving
anything,
here,
or, in your space,
and of course, and consequentially
your time.
sorry for being
mathematically abysmal,
aesthetically unpleasant,
and romantically
not that good.
i mean being your hero;
but
what one can do with the stuff
one accumulated during a lifetime;
given a space and time.
(because space and time are my true
trophies.)
imagination is born out of resistance and struggle.
esthetic is a description of that struggle and some
mysticism of course to spice up the environment.
so, therefore,
if you can hold your
breath here, and in the now.
so please do it for yourself,
the oneself, or for your cloud or clouds.
value is a memory anchor of that experience.
and i do not think that my experience is
supreme, and above yours.
although, i prefer that above or behind position.
if one is one,
i mean the one percent of
one hundred percent
fee-male plus some free stuff.

think and then admit it is for women, age
18 plus, and other pluses may do apply, depending on the situation on hand.
just to straight things out.
i like the idea
that nature is a solid reference.
esthetic,
and values are as a consequence
a vacuum of ideas that
means zero to nothing
compare to the
physicality
of experience.