Fear is the most expensive
lodging in the hotel,
the paradise suite where dead
laboratory rats and vivisected dogs end up.
Love is the disused boiler room.
Corporeal friends are
spiritual enemies, said
Blake, masturbating naked
on the roses while his wife
copied his manuscripts and wept.
The ocean's getting saltier, not from
half-melted human glaciers of human tears
but from the weeping dwarves of Ragnarök.
The Book of Things & Hope is planet-thick
and we get more insubstantial every day.
We all know God is Dead.
Nietzsche was rather slow to realise
that God had become just a Black Hole
in the infinitesimal human consciousness.
Jesus just a legend, Mohamed a
testosteronal war-lord.
God was rumoured to be Love
but Love never existed, either.
Now it's rumoured
by the ultra-intelligent and rich
that Black Holes are also dead...
I guess it's time to take a pill and go to bed.
 |
| Akbar |
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