72
Two Poems from an Ashram in India
First
All this talk of nectar and bliss is starting to piss me off.
I don’t know about you, my friend,
but my path to God ain’t no sweet waft of incense.
It’s a cat set loose in a pigeon pen,
and I’m the cat—
but also them who yell like hell when they get pinned.
My path to God is a worker’s uprising,
won’t be peace till they unionize.
Their picket is so fearsome