Back in the saddle

Out of my old friend, Mr. Green, for 

a few days, and it's good to take a break

from him...but he's my old friend and I

don't like living as much without him. I

graduated from alcoholism with honors,

so now I'm just a pot head Buddhist.

Sobriety is vastly overrated. It's good for

fixing a tire or sending  a man to the moon,

but it doesn't allow natural organic genius

to arise, muse like, from seeming nowhere.

Not that there aren't extraordinary humans

that shunned intoxicants....Buddha and

Trump are two of them. But humans have 

been trying to alter their consciousnesses

since the days all they could do is hit them-

selves in the heads with rocks. They found 

the good stuff long ago and have been 

using it wisely ever since.

I'm not stupid, but I'm not a goddamned

genius like at least four of the Beats. They

managed to develop a literary movement in

the streets of New York...scrapping by, in and

out of prisons and asylums, but never trapped

in Whitey World. What they did and how it's

genius is, it's a mixture of American City 

street  smarts, and neolithic sabian crypto-

shamanic poetic sybarite thuggishness.

So what I've written just there is my prayer,

if you so call it one, to those not of the beaten

track, the derailers and deregulators, because

humans are able to thrive in true anarchy, and

their true religion is to not have one, rather to 

use the senses as the true gates of knowledge, 

and wisdom and joy, which, indeed, they are.