Coming Down (continued)
II.
The scorpion on your desk says
"Hello! Hello!" he is made of a wire
alloy and begs, "Let us talk of your past
and why you came to be!" So, being in agreement
with universal sympathy, I declare, "Okay."
Love. Love. Love. Love. What did I
miss?
Love. Love. Love. Love.
From who? Beloved mother, weeping father, manly
brother, Stoic grandmother?
My friends and I have squandered more
brain cells than sperm cells because
we think more than we "intellectually
masturbate!"
I want nothing more than to be the next
BEAT GENERATION! I am Kerouac, my best mate
is Ginsberg, and Corso, Ferlenghetti, and Cassady
are talking poetic genius with us!
This is why it's pointless to dream; I recall the times
I wanted to go to outer space.
What is it--this connection with religion? Is
this all a
ploy to remind us that we exist (you asked me
that when you were high one night and you would
never admit it)
Asians gliding on sleek wooden hoverboards cutting
wind and physics in between asteroids like
a post-modern music video and all, all that
that ENTAi l s .
(to be continued)
gah!
ReplyDeleteHaha, I know. More to come!
ReplyDelete