Nine holes

We have now to play a nine hole golf 
On a spring morning under a blue sky
With a smoking pipe in one of our holes.
We thank God we have arrived finally.
It  is fun to play balls smoothly into holes.
Our holes are just nine and fully open.

Our tongues stick out, from their holes
As propositions are made we click them
We just have to purse lips to say "ptch".

We have collected stuff through our holes
And stashed them away into bigger holes
On our attic, in its tiny niches of darkness
We do not see these holes in our nights
Can only feel them as tingling sensations.

Our dark holes are nine and fully open
For the breeze to whoosh through them.
But we are afraid their time will son come 
To disappear in the bottomless sink-hole
Where all holes  vanish without retrieve.

(Nine holes in the Hindu philosophy are two eyes, two ears,two nostrils,two excretory organs, a mouth, the holes in the body through which we gather sensations)

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