All I wanna do is wear all black
or all white,
forget to write
and let go of regrets.

Who am I if I’m
all in or out,
a dissolving of every hummingbird before my eyes,
as I
sit underneath the mimosa tree
no longer smoking DMT.
I am on the Path,
but don’t tell anyone the mystery
of self-doubt
or gnosis.
Gnostic realization I seek,
a lonely path
while my best friend has a foot on water
a foot on land,
but really, what is the difference
between earth and air,
fire and water,
an open mirror
of infinite space
encapsulated within
primordial wisdom?

Reveal to me
the mysteries
of chili con queso,
dark skies
and an anonymous meeting,
the intersection of
awareness and appearance.

I’ll start my own club
of self-expression,
even if no one understands,
or do I?

How do I
release self-pity,
anger at self-inflicted chaos?
I can’t believe I make my own problems
while a non-ordained rabbi tells me
there’s no problem;
everything is already illuminated,
so I bathe in the fires
once again
seeking always.