i can’t seem to stop typing – a poem

i can’t seem to stop typing – a poem

i’ve never been to ayers rock
or on a walkabout
or
where you are
but it’s not like a dream about OZ
i don’t
or didn’t
until you lived there
like some distant surface of a planet
i’ve never inhabited
movies yes
playing the board game risk
yes
but those beaches
that rock
those natives
and some ancient
hallucinogen
that would turn us all in to lizards
again
back to our core brain function
eat, fuck, eat, sleep, repeat
no religion, no god
but the heat of the sun
on the rock
or the heat of the fire
as our dead bodies
ripen for ritualistic consumption
i’ve never been a shaman
but i think i get the concept
i saw the movie
i wrestled with the existential dilemma
i embraced a friend
and sang the song of myself
and HE smiled
something in the universe
appreciated our cacophony
and reverence
towards mother Earth
towards the sacredness of women
and the sanctity of sex
and how our perception of reality
has been dumbed-down by 1,000s of years
of brain development
mental maturity
language overlays
separating us from our childish selves
our experience of the color blue
and the ecstasy of carrots
i’m going to wrap it up
here
with this declaration
i am here now
typing
rocking back and forth a little
in a self-soothing process
i’m going to rest today
before the big push
the big rush
the flood, really
of words begins again
well…
that was the plan
but i can’t seem to stop typing

6-4-18

image: clark kent typing, creative commons usage

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