I’m in the traffic jam on the way to heaven
Sittin down in my fleshy car
Waiting
I guess I’ll sing to ya some

Cosmic lottery
The chorus of all
The chorus of us all

Eternally rejoicing
Harmonic gloom
Mother projection
Fetus in tomb

Life is fun when you find the people you were looking for

“What do you see? What do you see?”
To the ones who have climbed so high
To the ones who have lived my life
So I can break from the chains in which they died

you are the enterprise
all cells you eat are
your massacre
dissolved in your stomach
you are their new purpose

how did it become?
the nature of each pushed it
towards its place
unraveling more than creating

to become yourself you must first

THERE IS ONLY ONE STEP
we just follow our impulses

TWICE BORN BABIES
MICHAEL SAW IN THE OPERATING ROOM
    NEVER QUESTIONED IT BEFORE NOW
WE EXIST AS SURFACING PATTERNS
FRACTALLY CONTAINED IN EACHOTHER'S BRAINS
IN THE END ONLY 2 THINGS MATTER
IN THE MEANTIME MANY THINGS MATTER
YOU ARE ELECTRIC WATER ON A STOVE IN
A STABLE SMASHING OF MATTER, CHOSEN
TO BRING THE FORK INTO BEING
FROM THE UNBORN


you exist thinking of this world
     not much happens

vibrant green
underlying everything
a current
unceasing from within

recognition is action
recognition is action

a purpose-driven life unfolds outwards
into a glowing factory of unbound potential
growing pulsing out forward
the void swallows itself and we
relax into ourselves. to hate what comes
out of itself is a corrective
telling it it needs to barf or shimmy into the
correct hotel light. but until the last piece is in place
it all might still need to move. and that's why
sand castles are important to house the
builders of stone castles. and
your comfort and discomfort
will never end.

The one true story is taking place outside this poem
It is not what you think of it
It is not the thoughts this poem creates in you
It is there whether you notice it or not

You can open your eyes and see all the creatures
Pretending their own stories
Caught up
And straining towards belief

And you can fall into their beliefs
Into their stories
To reach them
To believe with them

But it is not the one true story
The one true story doesn't need to be proven
It is proof itself

It is direct
It is the letting go
It is the meeting
It is the contact made between
And the loosening of your deepest grip