5/9/11

Donald Trump palace estate,
The slow road home
To an empty brain
The lone ranger on parade,
Walking softly in circles
Searching for a sign
Waiting for a miracle that already happened,
Mumbling idiocies
With his earplugs in,
A cigarrette between his lips
And jive;
anger pouring out his nose tubes
Watching tv
And scrolling through the same old news.
Stocks went up.
Stocks went down.
Sun came up.
Sun went down.
No wait
The earth just spun around.
Standing in the shadow of the earth
The other side bathed in light.
Over here in the darkness
We have a lamp on
Burning the light
Scribbling in a notebook
Made of dead trees,
Watching the texture of dry paint
On a light yellow wall.
This is a month we call May.
2000 years since 2000 years ago.
24,000 full moons or so,
Since a storied crucifixion.
Lots of ideas out there.
Lots of stories.
Lots of people.
Gospel of Ramakrishna on the bedside table
Under a book about Freemasonry
Under the "holy" bible
(New Revised Standard Version with Apocrypha)
All illuminated by a Goodwill lamp,
With what looks like Sharpie squiggles
That could be another language.
Over here on the other side of the world
In the shadows
In what would be the darkness,
Except for electrical outlet in the wall
Powering the lamp
That appeared on a Goodwill shelf
A few thousand years after a campfire someone had
A few thousand years ago
Burning dead wood
That was powered by the Sun
So there was light in the darkness
On the other side of the world
In the shadows
As the orbit continued
And the rotations ran their course.