body

so get this:

jesus died

they hung his body on a tree
and then he died
(dead is dead)

but now they say
he’s resurrected

they put his body
in a grave
and then
and then

the grave was empty!

so get this:

now they say
that we
are his body

that’s crazy, right?
how are we supposed to
rub some mud
in a blind dude’s eyes
and make him see?

that’s crazy
the only thing
that i know how to do
with mud
is make bodies dirty

dead is dead
and if you think otherwise
that’s crazy

but if you want to get
your body dirty
i can help you out

conjuring

arcane strings of words and symbols
shaped precisely as prescribed
by those who pioneered the craft
chock-full of raw creative vibe

forming, out of nothing, constructs
with their own reality
relating, interacting, changing
time and life, humanity

when i was a kid i wondered
how it felt when magic flowed
from the fingers of a wizard
damn, i’m glad i learned to code

learning to play the banjo

there’s a lot to learn
about this twangy contraption
of mahogany and rosewood
mylar and steel
screwed together like an ikea end-table

i’m cramming my head
with musical knowledge
of strings and frets
chords and rolls
the gray matter’s working extra hard

but my fingers
my poor fumbling fingers
like beer-bellied sluggards
trying olympic gymnastics
scoff, you call what you’re doing learning?

brain, please

love ’em or leave ’em

you have two choices
said my master
when people and animals
objects and ideas
causes and conditions
drift into your life
like clouds on a breezy day

you may love them
and sit with them
listen to their story
and truly see their worth
embrace them
and share life with them

or you may let them go
and watch as they
drift out of your life
like storm clouds in a gale
or like dissipating mist

but master
i inquired with some anxiety
what of those clouds
which i cannot love
and which yet
refuse to leave?

ah, young one
for that kind of cloud
you will need this
said the master
as i was suddenly blasted
by the thunder and wind
of her carefully concealed
leaf blower