As woman upon woman waited on mats not rafts,
For some soft music and exercises that thousands
Of penguins badly needing icebergs would not assuage,
Nor rid them of even their coldest or sexiest
Or of so many other desires and drafts.
Such rage and such desire incompletely suppressed;
Frustrations submerged in what is our now becoming
Not comely, but too customary environment.
My feeling was: it’s challenging for human beings,
To say nothing of any deeply cleansing breaths.
And so I tightly and carefully re-rolled my mat
Before taking with me, in my haste, too many less
Than charitable imaginings which I may work at
Learning (with a smile) to regret, but not repress.