Archive for all the stuff I call poems that I have written over the last 30 years and that I still continue to write, oblivious to the fact that they might be little more than doggawn atrocious in the eyes of those who might not know how to generate within themselves the bliss invisible.
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Prayin'
wake up in the mornin’ pray to the buddhas fill my head with all kinds of spiritual gumpf buy into the illusion they will somehow protect me from the inconceivably unimaginable universal spin of the great unknown...
