PAN-Galactic Poemy and Updata
All Paths Lead To GodMon, February 18, 2008 - 10:43 AM
You can fly in a plane and see all them scurry like ants below,
You can walk or run or crawl on hands and knees, but have fun child, have fun.
You can get arrested and have the cops haul you there,
You can scream and cry and tantrum all the way,
You can pause now and again on the escalator surrounded by wild flowers,
You can throw your hands up at every confusing road sign,
You can run in circles until you fall down dizzy,
You can laugh like a maniac grinding mojitos on the back of your moped,
You can swim across the lake of fire,
You can shoot yourself from a lingam-cannon, covered all in cookware,
You can drive your zeppelin, amplifying the Death March or singing hymns.
You can collect the worn out shoes along the way,
You can collect the worn out clothes along the way,
Or even the worn out travelers.
You can lie in bed and dream yourself there, but chances are
We'll all show up at precisely the same moment, ready for a party to begin.
I prefer to row with one oar in my canoe shouting belligerent devotional songs
to people bathing cool on the banks while the tail end is all in flames.
-Justin Elliot Anderson
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gratitudeThanks for the inspiring words! I miss you, cosmic brother! Where in the world are you these days? Bless!