2026
It started with Microphones in 2020 and I not wanting to have to empty the contents of my backpack trying to find a map
that leads to now.
I wanted to draw the damn map myself, with a big red crayon in my child's fingers.
I wanted to know exactly where I came from, and jot it all down along the way, and never forget one glaring second of it.
I am here in the Eternal Present.
This is my home.
Not those drawings, not any of the poetry, not this website, none of the specifics.
Not the ferry in Hoboken, not the wet grass in Wallingford in the late summer afternoon, cradling.
Not the heaving PATH train.
Not the sweaty disorientation.
Not the last kiss denied, and my denial.
Not the orange glow of 1000 streetlamps.
Not Athens, Georgia or Kalamazoo, Michigan or Manhattan, not even the upper west side.
I am not my memories or the future I am writing.
I am not ever-changing form.
I am behind everything, watching from calm center.
I am swirling matter.
I am the darkness surrounding a flame.
I am, I am, I am.
Step outside into the blazing
sunlight
the first exhalation of a new spring
Notice the difference in
vibrational rate / outside your
body, inside your body
Until I am as pure as this raw
sunlight...
Today - frozen,
Watching my habits drag me into hell
I am sense-slave
Separated unduly from my nature
Pure sunlight
I shed my young skin and positively
embrace the gugenheim
How tacky, believing
My thoughts are mine
Today -
I wonder why there's a little mesh screen separating the rows in the airplane with 2-people seats and the rows
with 3-people seats, doesn't anyone realize how absurd this is? We've built up such a dependence on independence it's not a second-thought
to visibly distort reality to protect our built-up pretensions, like buildings and cars and all the stuff we think is ours, ICK!
What do I want?
Who am I?
What should I do?
I I I I
Me mine mine mine
Grandma got teary-eyed and held me close when I told her I was a believer and I meant it and she promised we'd meet in heaven.
Young T yogi-householder who once built an Indian style teepee and a garden
out on somebody's land with $11 and cedar bark, lived there two years in mid-90s central California and burned the whole thing down when it was time to go.
Do you think her mind would change if she knew? I'm the lord's too, aren't I?
Whatever, here, put this in my great American Novel:
Aunt Marty, in the airport, suddenly said, "Do you know how long it takes to burn a horse?" like she was setting up a joke.
"3 days"
New plan:
Find some land
build a house
spend all my money
live in it
buy a school bus
tour in it
grow and eat my own food
just live in it
WAIT!
i need to go to india
hm....
Aummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
What do I want?
I want to be free
I go outside to piss in the blurry night
myself just as blurry
Have you reached the end of the path?
Teepees for guests
Gardens
Tool shed
Cellar
I want nothing
Flowers and patio outdoor kitchen
Meditate live in the earth burn everything give back with ash and listen
What do I need:
-space, autonomy, air
-food from the ground, storage
-water, wood for fuel
LAND: to "own" so as not to have any paranoia about squatting
TOOLS: to build a house and mend things
KNOWLEDGE: which I intend to gain through trial and error
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness is Moksha
Desirelessness
Target practice in God's land
Whose
?
I will write the next great American Novel
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram