Axiom to the Unsolved Equation
People are mesmerized by the rug under which we sweep the unsavory. By the roaring silence of the unspeakables in our brains. By the sum total on Lady Death’s abacus.
Choice is illusion, free choice oxymoronic.
Fate is euphemistic inevitability.
You don’t hear life’s drum roll until the drumming stops.
A Trappist monk, longing in sandals.
A flower child, longing with a fist full of rose petals.
The longing of Saint John the Baptist with his eyes rolled back in his head.
Thimbles of poison, passed off as altar wine.
What gets discovered was already there–the permanence of the calcified dream; the rigid skin around movement.
Your toenails continue to grow.
Praise the Arabs for giving us zero.
After each journey, the return to Sodom.
After every vision, the slide into sin.
Pick up your cross and get on with it, God has no use for whiners.
This is where amen comes in.