Life

Life

By Nana Aforo



Life is it's most jarring in darkness because life

wears a mask and sneaks and creeps around shadowed

wall corners. Both the good and the bad. It doesn't get mad

it gets even, even when you least expect it, it's pet karma catches you

and takes a bite. And just as swiftly transfigures into a journeyman

bearing gold from remote places you didn't even know existed.



There's poetry in this shit! Rolling dung gathers much dirt and dust

laying in the sun and begins to must. But to be happy you've got to

conquer it by making it a part of you. Dig out a space and dry shit out,

because it's still a little moist from infrequent tears. Then put it in the

space and you've got manure to grow something truer; azaleas, wild

flowers, and perennials. Mind power is essential.



Life is a creepily quite individual, reserved yet violently spastic; he's

an artist that works in all mediums so genre is actually irrelevant. He

lives in a beige colored house in the middle of nowhere, where rare

birds and bright sprites mingle with giants and ogres. He also goes

on hikes and once in a while steps in some stray shit, and one of these

days I met life while running to clear my mind. I happened upon life

who had just stepped in shit. I stopped, looked down, and said to him,

there's poetry in this shit, you've just got to look.