Listen to Your Pets

January thirteenth two thousand twenty two 

was the last time I went to the shadows to have a bottle 

of Japanese tequila with my underworld pets. 

There they served me my own power. 

The underworld is not seductive John John Jr.s 

like my mom said it would be. 

It is barbaric pleading screams for what was

in the upper world paradigms. 

Ancestors heard those screams.

Ezra remembers those screams

locked in my master suite in the country club.

This is where you level up.

My pets said leveling up is not glory and glamour 

showering your life in the Met Gala 

sacrament meeting of Alpine Utah.

It is not the clique of saints at the banquet.

Nor the cult of personality of large families

with so many members they are their own ward.

Nor is it in the large and spacious temples

built with the finest materials for the elect.

It is not having a well-groomed coven of women

to help raise your children with spells

of hymns, fresh orange rolls and raw testimony

in countless hours of meetings.

It is not with lawyers, surgeons or bankers of god 

in white shirts with white handbooks

pontificating script to the tithe paying servants.

Hell is the upper world of illusions.

Go into the shadows, away from the "salvation"

where you receive messages from your pets,

information spies who live in the shadows.

You get upgrades that feel vicious to existence at first.

"Abort the mission. Abort the building on fire."

Abort the Christ-like members? The white knights?

Is your intuition wholeheartedly trusted,

or can you still be manipulated by the masses?

If you have learned the tricks of the upper world

you will be thrown into a final exam situation

to act upon the power previously served 

specifically to your soul that dark night.

Your demon of manipulation and lies

has been a foundation of sand: 

everything is washing away in the torrent

of visions, dreams, voices and synchronicities.

Is your intuition sharp and sight clear now

that a you were given foresight of the little boy drowning? 

Not clear enough. Is it clear after your angel son

cracked his skull open exactly the day you knew he would?

What will it take for you to claim your power? Everett.

Once you do, the upper world saints will bring 

their true colors to the surface in mockery and shunning

so you can lower your insight back down, doubt yourself.

As they insert themselves into your spirit

demonizing your sight, your character, 

"Is this who you are?" "Just let it go, get over it."  

Don't let it go, alchemize it to your advantage.

If you can sit through that without clearing the table,

without succumbing to Lot's wife flaw

to look back for what was, instead of what could be...

you are upgraded to rule upper and lower worlds 

in a new dreamy era

at the rightful head of your table 

where tequila is your unnecessary white knight 

and you are your savior. 

Mormon attorney and bothered.

Undefined and unbothered.

Unbothered and unbelievably dreamy.

Volleyball tournament at Seal Beach, CA.

The way our family has rallied through all this is astounding, 

but they ride the wild horses with me. My tribe.

We beached, dined, mini golfed, hot tubbed. Deacon played with the littles the whole trip, which delights them so much. Andrew has become the king of silly dad jokes because Everett thinks they are hilarious. Which they become as Everett is flapping and laughing as Andrew is going on and on. They have a precious relationship. 

And...Deven got a Siamese cat for his birthday, but the day after we left our dog Luxie, a natural born killer, had a tuft with the cat. Dev ended up at the vet for a few hours with his cat, and now has a different protective love for his new pet. The cat is fine. Listen to your pets :)

And... I ran into a friend from high school at the tournament. A couple days previous to that I had gotten out my yearbook to show Ev and Ez what "signing a yearbook" looked like, so they could have their friends at Montessori sign their yearbook that day. I showed them C.J.'s artwork he did on my Freshman yearbook and then a couple days later ran into him. Wild. He updated me on his girls who do cheer at BYU, our friend Conrad is a bishop, and so on. The last post I said this topic was done. It just won't quit me, so I wrote this poem. Absurdres.