I wanna be like Jack
with a world for a pack
and the fearless form of two legs
straight thru, east coast to west
I wanna nirvana my best hedonist heathenism
and kick up a sweat
rolling in dust
I wanna dusk and dawn forever,
a scramble of beginnings n ends
and skip out the uncertain
blur of choice;
I want
whatever I want whenever I want it,
and what I want
I want it
now
and I wanna be a right bikkhuni,
living with nuthin’ but praying
all night,
waking up
enlightened
I wanna get my legs out in the summer,
propped up on thick boots
and bloody cut knees
I wanna eat humble bread
and $15 cheese
and survive on nothing
but a lonely alms round
I wanna cook on fire and empty
my desire under the embers of dying stars,
resenting the biological need
for sleep
resenting sheep and yet spinning
a regular 8-6, goddammit
(with plenty of coffee breaks
but never the dukkah of diabetes.)
I wanna live forever and die young.
I wanna live forever in the Sun
and become brown and crusty
I wanna be a goddamn Queen
and break bread like Jesus,
entrepreneurial the beheezus
out of modern capitalism
I wanna play the game
and fuk it all up,
infiltrating from the
inside
out
I wanna be as high as a kite
and earthy as a bleeding bow
I wanna speak with immensely profound clarity
that rambles on rhymes with no reason
I want each and every season
every month
on tap
I wanna be in the present moment
and I don’t wanna have to wait for it.
I’ll do whatever I’m told
and love resenting every inch of it
I wanna kiss the life back into cold loves
and stuff my hurt back into my
womb
and feed it blood and bone fertiliser
and watch it grow each moon
I want to give Him a baby
and then hand it over,
a good honest Concubine
with full rights on Joy
I wanna go back in time
and forward in space,
I wanna see the empty atoms and
holes in my dead face.
I want to remember every acre of every
memory across the aeons;
build it \ tear it down,
and build it up
again
I want a narrow tunnel of a vision
and the deafening suck of the city’s hum
I want gentle drum beats and roaring karanga,
a mish mash of the
21st mind that
changes
every
instant
I want a proper diagnosis, a
checklist of “yes”,
a fat booming throat
whose tongue lashes,
“NO!”
I want to know time
before it happens.
I want
out
and I want
in.
I want the
nekkhamma of poverty
and the
ability to give-give-give endlessly, honestly…
I want a First Rate Lover
with little-to-no defects;
As New, a
World of Worldly Wisdom
\ Made To Order;
a strictly monastic companion
bought On Tap.
Down into the big, gaping gap we’ll reach
and gasp, “Oh God!” when we
touch the Void.
right off the edge we’ll fall,
knowing it all all at once
and with
nothing to show
for it
down the rabbit hole we’ll swim and
never
come back for daze
and of our esoteric ways,
friends and strangers alike will say,
“gee, what a pair!”
Oh! what a cocoon we’ll spin,
us two fantastic beasts
(who knows where to find ‘em)
and from the soft, silky threads of us
we’ll catch
every
last
little
fly
And then
we’ll die —
just to do it all again
but maybe… better,
next time.