when we first emerged from the primordial scum we had no choice but to worship the land because we marinated in it, squished our faces in it all day long ambulating spineless as we were amongst the mud and ferns' feet. too long we haughty bipeds have distanced ourselves from the earth//the giver. humble yourself, bend and be close to it, sniff its dank rot, let the striving miners lettuce fall into your open mouth and chew, allow the medicine of the nettle to kiss your cheeks with its electric fingers, make friends with a snail while you're down there. touch the earth and be grateful; the land will always conquer the athlete. bow down and thank the earth for what ki has given to you.