My bags are overflowing
My eyes are out on stalks
I carry such an habituated taste
For the tuck box of this world.
Listen, who has time to stop,
Like a tortoise withdrawing her head
Or a hedgehog curling into a ball?
Don't be shy my friend
To listen to silence
Don’t be shy to listen to thunder either
From whichever angle you approach the dragon
He will roast you with his hot breath
Pack your bags and put the tools back on the shelf.
Today we are going dancing.
Why not be an addict,
Snooze on the train tracks,
And pay no heed when the brakes fail?
It makes perfect sense
I honour the compassionate Buddhas
Of the intensive care unit
The ambulance drivers of the family disaster zones,
The loving purveyors of balm to the wounded humanity.
I truly do.
But I cannot speak highly enough of the Obliterati
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