Group 2

By the Pearly Gates, an angel gave me a book "How to get by in heaven with under ten dollars per day" I decided to read before entering, and took a look It was very brief and only had two things to say: "The bad news: heaven is one endless day; The good news: nobody uses money anyway."

The kind of body we have nothing will prove Centipedes have hundreds of legs to move, Octopus and spiders make do with eight, Insects find six legs ideal state; In nature, four legged animals abound, Humans on two legs can get around, Most birds on one leg can go to sleep Restful and well balanced their bodies keep; Snakes can get around without a leg Lowly though they are, will not beg; In the ocean fish can simply float Like some under water legless boat. If you don't have one leg to stand upon Nor any nimble limbs to stretch or run Matters not, be yourself, play your role And so fulfill your mortal goal.

How can I possibly relax With IRS collecting tax? Mental and fiscal attacks Imposed upon people's backs. With myself constantly race Leaving behind not a trace Of mischief in any place Still not finding peace nor grace. I could be a rector Engineer, a doctor, Watch every reaction Avoid any attraction; Yet there is no release They shear my fleece, The only way to find peace Is to escape to Greece. But even in Greece My troubles increase, Too many palms to grease I return to my ailing peace. They say that taxes and death Are inevitable as life's breath The only way not to pay tax Forego income, and just relax And the only way not to die Avoid birth, in spirit lie.

We look upon life as a test This is the paradigm of the West But in the East at their best They linger, loiter, and rest. A bird sitting in her nest Grooming feathers on her breast; If in the West, put on your vest And like the ant fill up your chest. Yet it's the bird who wins the test, She eats the ant and leaves the rest.

I saw a lady walking, her arms in a swing As though she was a bird flapping her wing. This was fine because her walk was an exercise To flap her wings and look stupid was her prize. Her exercise gear, her clinging spandex Gave her leave to thus her arms flex. Later that same day, same lady I met Properly attired, she was in a fret That some unknown man seeming so strange In improper walk would himself engage. Has he no respect for propriety? Whatever happened to sobriety? I was amused to see the uniform we wear Gives us leave to act with or without care; Same person being so strange in one outfit In another, with false piety must sit. Whatever happened to our essence and our being? Must we judge all things the way we are seeing?