Friday, October 14, 2016

Not For Writing

This is not writing stoned.
This is taking the paint off 
the wall stoned.
I didn't read the warning
on the pipe:
"Watch Your Head!"
But I'm writing anyway,
like a frog splayed on a
dissecting table...
time for lunch.
Nothing wrong with that
frog that a life as a toad
couldn't fix.

You see?

But, you see, we hippies,
what's left of us,
never could abide your rules.

You have to learn technique 
to paint, to do music...
but even these disciplines 
become second nature...
...then, you improvise.

Which is a description of how
we learn to live on our own 
at all anyway.

"Kill the Buddha"


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