Chinese Death Spiral

He tempted the Old Ones with his pridefulness,
Challenging them to show themselves out by the dojo,
“Come on out, Kuo! Show your face Zhang!”
“I know you all are out there! So show your face!”
“My Gong Fu is better than yours!”
He kept on exhorting them in his drunkenness,
Throwing an empty Mickey’s bottle in their general direction
He turned his back on the octagonal deck,

Then he heard laughter,
“Must be the neighbors,” he said out loud,
He noticed that the dogs were lying under the brown pickup,
Looking at him and perking their ears in his direction,
“What are you all looking at?” he growled,
He opened another beer and felt a light breeze on his arm,

Then, as he started to walk off toward the barn,
He slowly started to turn and his left arm extended,
He walked the Circle of the Eight Directions,
His right arm extended and he felt himself being pulled inward,
He was moving faster now, spiraling downward,
He felt a rubbing sensation on his left wrist and arm,
Unable to stop his circular movement, he was bent toward the ground,
There was a raucous laughter all around, echoing in the hedge trees,
The dogs huddled together and whined as he fell,
The spiraling continued and he twisted and writhed in a circle,
When he finally stopped, an opressive weight held him down,

He could not breathe or stand up,
He heard the laughter disappearing in the leaves,
He lay there and heard footsteps on the octagonal deck of the dojo,
Then the laughter ceased,
And the breeze blew cool in his face,
He got up, dusted off his clothes,
And bowed to the Eight Directions.