Two years later

Am I any better?

No more cheesecake

Not that I ever liked it.

No more Cherry

Not that I never loved her.


Just who am I?

Who are you?

Are you you?

Am I me?

Neither of us are who we are.

God forbid there's a third.


Finalize the details

Of my funeral

And subsequent cross-country tour

Lamenting the death of life.

Hey Death, here's a thought

For you to kick around sometime:

Why don't you keep appointments?

You're either too early or too late.

If I were your boss,

Also known as George W. Bush,

Also known as World Terrorist General,

I'd give you a raise.

Keep up the good work.

But Life? Life? Life.

Life doesn't work here any more.

It isn't about some lackluster imposter,

Or some cuckoo, meaningless war

That all so vainly try to justify

With guilt and ideological idiocy,

But what it boils down to the same questions:

"When would I die?

When will I die?

Why will I die?

Do I want to die?

Why do I want to die?"

Capitalize the I's, dear.

Follow your eyes.

To hell with the skies.

Now there's poetry.

Ironically through mediocrity.


Two years later.

This isn't so abstract.

This is succinct.

This is not succinct.

And there it is again.

Contradiction after agreement.

I love myself.

I hate myself.

You know the more a poet uses personal pronouns,

The more likely they're going to commit "self-slaughter"?

I'm a dead man!

I'm alive!

Why am I alive?

Is there any reason I shouldn't live?

But what's my purpose?

There is a God.

There is no God.

I exist.

I do not exit.


HOLD THE PHONE!


I've got it, I've got it!

Put the bagel down, Barry, and fetch a towel.

Maybe I exist, and maybe God exists.

Maybe I don't exist, and maybe God doesn't exist.

Barry, the towel!

The grapefruit!

No, not the modern opera scene, get her out of that!

Duality, Barry, duality!

Through duality, God and I are one!

And I am human,

You are human too,

Which means, in brief,

That every living creature is God!

Let's storm the Vatican,

Meet System's Malakin,

Molest several manikins,

Or not.

Find the cure for AIDS,

Or cancer. Which one takes priority?

Priority or inferiority?

Time for a complex, kids!

Insanity, sanity.

All one body.

Stability or chaos?

Are human beings chaos?

Is this what keeps us from becoming God?

So the whole Nirvana thing has some credence?

Didn't he die under a tree or some scenario along those lines?


Stop rambling on.

Two years later. Is this it?



Hardly.