Unquiet Desperation
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Author Topic: Try Taking a Cure, Fella  (Read 1134 times)
Pater
Galileo Galilei
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Posts: 672


Pressed wrong button in p'port photo booth...


« on: June 25, 2013, 04:59:40 AM »

The same old cokehead drives in,
been away feigning sin; ain't he clever.
Read a book or three, Chinese even,
so he can speak a la mystery.
Quotes a name who never wastes a word,
to whom he must strive while wiping his nose.
His red-raw and runny nose; ain't he clever.

Scaly skin can rest in the mind
while sweet knowledge oozes out,
in the gathering of self-sought mutual love.
After all, they're only words, only the world
experimentals like him live in. Pretend to be clever.

One more cokehead rides in,
sniffs the leftover moulted skin
the others left behind; takes their part
or so he thinks. Gets a hard-on in his head,
why aren't they all at his feet?
He can only imagine it but ain't he clever.
And he'll tell anyone left the score.

Then off and away again for another year,
read some more Chinese Zen and Buddhism;
their poetry and sacred use of words.
Return here sometime to kid his brain
he's clever again. Still a cokehead,
still believing he's someone's djinn.

by Pater
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