Thursday, May 2, 2013

snaking along the outer edge

of my miasma

is a queasy feeling

about the inevitability

of no grace and no hope

and no love for the duped

and all the lost effort I've made

in the foolishness of compassion

we are united in suffering

the religious books all say so

as though if you wanted to be happy

you had to be deluded

some paradise sprawling around us

but impossible to access...

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