You say you want thought to be dust
under the feet of awareness.
But what if that means
opinions
start sounding
like a porn star’s
commodified moans?
Still want it?
You say you want to catch
Being-ness exhaling the world.
But what if that means
feeling weepy with worship
to a god that glows in the eyes
of a psychopathic, “fountain pen killer”
greedily crumbling
the economies of the world
with a smile?
Still want it?
You say you want to say goodbye
to the mythical “I.”
But what if that means
you can’t step anywhere
without parting
the awesome, ethereal sea
from which all names and forms crawl forth?
Still want it?
You say you’re ready to stop hiding
behind your birth name–
the schizophrenia that divides
seer from seen,
Whole Foods from McDonalds.
But what if that means
each breath becomes
an extinction level event
and all movements of personality
get tossed
mindlessly,
like credit card applications?
Still want it?
