Outlaw

When the center of society is corrupt 

it’s saner to be on the fringe.

When laws become oppressive it’s 

better to go around them.

That’s something we learned as hippies.

Did you think we were wasting our time?

We weren’t playing their games. We made

up our own. Creativity is the father of

invention. Necessity, the mother, is always

telling us the lawn needs mowing.

One thing’s for sure: there’s always something.

Even getting up insists on adventure…even if

we have a rut, a routine, derailment is always

Da likelihood. One can be smart and be numb,

stupid and be enlightened. We have what we bring 

to the table, and also what we are served. Over all,

the whole thing’s a feast, if you look at it that way,

or a holocaust, if you’re so inclined. One of the 

Khans, I forget which one, tried to kill Karma 

Pakshi, by fire, by boiling him in oil, other ways.

He was never harmed in the slightest. 

It’s only a story, but it happened they say.

He was an outlaw of the laws of physics. How can 

that be? “There are more things in heaven 

and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your 

philosophy.” Hamlet. Shakespeare was an alien.

I have a great disguise, costume, persona that fits

very nicely over my corpse. Is it possible to be 

morbidly awake? I just thought of that. Anyway,

(My Muse is winging it.) Even writing as an outlaw.

The Beats did., Bukowski, Miller, etc., all the great 

ones, like all the artists, presented something that, if

one digested, one would see the world in a more 

clear way. So, Buddha was the greatest outlaw of

them all. He showed humanity how to transcend

imprisonment at all. Just say’n. And, he did it

peacefully. Me? I’m a cheap imitation of what I 

do not know. A word salad, like Kamala does, but

with anchovy, hard boiled egg, artichoke and bacon,

you know, something nice….that was an outlaw 

thing to write.