THE GREAT MYSTERIES OF LIFE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

As we stand on the cusp of the new year, I'm in a reflective mood...so here's an encore presentation that I know many of you have not seen before that addresses what I'm feeling...and am always feeling to some extent. HAVE A HAPPY!

I'm cruising down to the convenience store to pick up some beers

with the words of my spiritual master ringing in my ears:

You must give up your worldly attachments if you want to advance.

Pulling into the lot I spot a raven-haired goddess

riding in with some biker who looks like

one of the lout-infested Vikings in that credit card commercial.

While he is distracted inside,

I whisper in her ear: "What's HE got that I ain't got?"

And she says..."He's got...a big...HARLEY!"

So I hop back into my car,

resigned to worshipping her from afar--

but my master is adamant on this point:

You musn't worship something that could give you an STD.

And I'm supposed to give up sex--

or at least not enjoy it, if I want to be enlightened.

And I must atone for a life of living fast and loose,

in order to extract my neck from this karmic noose.

And I must be engaged with the great mysteries of life,

as I ponder why the weather girls on the Spanish channel

are always hotter than all the others...

and I am picking up a Christian radio station

on my television: POSITIVE, ENCOURAGING, K-LOVE!

It drowns out the regular programming on my PBS channel.

And I'm certain that it's some kind of sign from the cosmos--

but why pick on a nice Buddhist boy like me?

Heading home, I see Kerouac on the corner,

trying to wangle a ride--

he's been standing there since 1955.

But hard times have fallen on vagabond scribes,

as "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?"

gave way to One Night In Paris.

But he's picking up some extra jack

writing the direction labels on shampoo bottles

in his stream-of-consciousness style...

Once upon a time in a Ford Galaxy

far, far away--I whispered empty words

of love to Suzie, and Lucy, and Betty Jean--

until...VOILA! Fourteen years of coming

home every night and saying: WHAT'S FOR DINNER?

Thinking this is it--the happiness that had eluded me--

as the prime of my life slowly...slipped...away.

As did she.

And I can see my mother and me

standing on the platform

as the train roars down upon us--

she is running away...again.

And it is said that boys grow up

and seek out their mothers--

and so it was

that I chose one

who would RUN.

And I tell my master it's easier

to give up your worldly attachments

when there's little left to lose.

And there's something about being done

with the greater part of it that turns you young.

And you find yourself saying WHATEVER

and you come to understand that it means

accepting things the way they are--

and you think maybe these kids are on to something

as they shrug and turn back to their internet porn.

And yet, here I stand, crying

WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT, ALFIE?

But Alfie's too busy scoring

to offer any kind of reply,

though he seems to be saying heaven can wait.

So I just want to know...

can there be any compromise

for one who is other worldly, yet worldly wise?

COSMIC JOKE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

An encore presentation that speaks to our times

The point
is not to point out
this injustice
or that
and rail
and wail
and flail
or send those angry missives
through the mail
have at it if it floats your
rubber ducky
if it makes you feel better
 to care
just be aware
that injustice is EVERYWHERE
you haven't been singled out
(snort some o' this up your snout)
be a fundamentalist
if it turns your crank
let the preacher take
your money to the bank
you're still missing
the fundamental point
that this world we've created
you and me
is a topsy-turvy
absurdity
a game one can only win
if not taken seriously
that sounds like a contradiction
(now you're getting warm)
you don't react to absurdity
you don't respond to insanity
with a jerk of the knee
just laugh along
with the other inmates
of the asylum
who've discovered the
cosmic joke
play the game
for all you're worth
but don't take a life
or give your life
(settle down with your wife)
this cheaply
alone in your room at night
putting together that explosive device
and when you've blown yourself
the hell off the planet
and your soul is streaking
back to that place of
clarity and light
you'll say oh you
stupid
silly
sonofabitch
you fell for it again
and all because
you missed the point
of the game
which is simply to remember
that you're playing one
and that later on we'll all have
a good laugh together
and go back
Jack
and do it again