my Brain fried in the Furnace of the Damned
my Eyes were dry, my Breath stank
Sugarcoated Hatred was Breakfast Lunch and Dinner
The Bible leered at me and Krishna grimaced
everywhere I looked the Holy Ones mocked
Earth argued with Sky in World War Dreams
Priests and Monks preached “get it together”
I remember when my Thumb froze
and went up my Ass to smoke Cigarettes
Reefer and Coffee were Father and Mother
Dysfunctional Parents of Methedrine Baby
Who can really say what is
now that God no longer speaks?
not Allen or Alan and not His Holiness
not all the Sunday-suited goody-goody Bodhisattvas
Three Eyes Fangs and Skull Mala
Angry Flames riding man-eating Tiger
Laughing wicked bloodstained Laughter:
“Sit down as you are and look at Mind!”
Even me? Even MY mind is Buddha?
There is no pleasure greater than to weep
and touch my forehead to the ground
remembering your impossible Kindness
Love,
John O.
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