predator's cowardice.

that gate
giant old gate

remains open forever. ready
for everyone. embracing.
anyone can handle these vibrations

if they'd let themselves.

crossing over
requires only little tokens-

keep up
with what's going on in the world, for
instance. don't

you care about that?

this is the father, the
great duty

i'm referring to. mr. easy-peasy.
if you can't be cavalier

than that's your ignorance
you're mishandling,

and you've got a lot of learning to do

as soon as you stop suiciding.
bad life as per
bad karma- you've offended

atman, duh. this is your fault.

typical human. selfish.
no ancestry; absence of youth

on our hands. ne'er do well. had a chance, and denied it.
shithead from hell. the ancient dead.

giant stomach and little mouth.

we must work our way up, says
king kong of the tribe. prison mentality.
all "let's sell drugs," or whatever.

worms until
we are worms lined up, in it

for dirt and the sounds we make
under the earth

until the beak meets us

and that's what you get, for turning
the grandmother
into a body of antigens. for missing the forest

for the trees.
there are no secrets left. oh,

how transparent our negligence is; does seem to be
the root of it all

wouldn't you agree
that a good example of this would be

how we give our shit away
to anyone

that doesn't resemble ourselves
but always is us exactly
at the end

of every fucking day?

yes, how endearing, our desperate plea
considering
we've robbed ourselves
for ourselves-

the intimacy is all thrown off,
pornography omnipresent;

permenantly fried
from miseducation of dimensionality

and
if there's any true bareness left
then that's a glimmer of hope
we ought to surrender

to the good people-

the owls

very old souls

threats
to that which seems evil in ourselves (though
is only naive)

that only we
reject.

and if we surrender
just this once
than the good people will forgive us

and
we can all start over again
start from scratch-

wouldn't that be nice
at least considering

how nice we'd consider ourselves
and how we'd feel all rewarded
which matters

considering how obsessed with rewards
we are?

it would be the logical thing
to do, anyway

considering
what we give is worth
how much it saves us

as we equate worth
to our being saved

for half a second.

how quiet the voice is without this crying
for help. never
have i known silence so well

now that i abuse it, so
afraid of it. practically asking for
the swoop of the owl

to ambush me.

and soul is now a feather, a keepsake
of a betrayed dream

that really ought to cross over
is the point i meant to make

not that i'm an authority
on the subject.