If someone put a gun to my head
and forced me to teach a yoga class,
I’d play doom metal music and
have everyone imagine:
it’s 70 degrees,
they’re sleeping under a palm tree,
the sun is as golden as yellow daylilies.
There is no rain — only the sound of rain.

Then, I’d make them imagine that their bodies are crawling with lizards
until they begged me for mercy.