I can’t deal with light and love.
I’m not as black as cancer…yet,
so Cobain can eat his heart out
if the worms didn’t already get to it first.

Truth is my worst nightmare.
Am I allowed to weep yet?

The most important man I ever knew
died 417 days ago in front of my eyes.
I kissed him on the forehead
then never saw him again except in dreams.

I was born a Shaman without guidance
so I ended up a man in arrested development.

The legacy drug is haunting my loins.
This name is just dust in the wind.

Sex is a plague that populates an overcrowded earth
so I ran alone to the desert seeking enlightenment.

I lie even when I’m sincere
because I refuse to get to the heart of the matter.

Victim mentality came as a spider,
wrapped me up in its web,
screamed like an angel of damnation
into my weathered ears,
and then poured the poison inward.

I crave the bite of the snake.
I rebelled before Adam was born.
The Garden of Eden is my Armageddon.
Eve did a sexy striptease to tempt and taunt me
as apple juice dripped down her supple breasts
but I was already busy plotting with the devil
so the scene was just another broken illusion.

I lost my faith in the human race.
I went back to the Tree of Knowledge
to hang around with the King Ape.
We beat our chests and let loose
with primal screams of passion
to scare away the threat of evolution.

When the flood came, I drank the undertow.
Maynard said, “Learn to swim,” so I did.
Baptism caused brain damage
when I finally surfaced for air.

I should have stayed in the womb of Source.
I never asked for any of this.
But I also never said no.

The Great Yes to it All, as Campbell advised.
Mythology is what you make of it.

The grave is always yawning.
This story is getting boring.
Goodnight means hello.
Nevermind, it’s all been said before.