01/28/2018

​you must not imagine
a seriousness, an equation.
love is a platypus.
everyone will tell you
“hoax” the one word
that hell whispers at
heaven over and over.
the heart is a wilderness.
don’t judge those
that have gone there
and have come back.
they are talking like
birds, in whistles,
like the old ones did
in the half lit fields
before the ambulances came.
maybe someday you’ll
be told the dead circle back
or have never really departed
or that time is just a hair
caught in our eyes.
in Japan, zen-master Dōgen
smashed wild things
over the vases of heads.
sufis will shit on the
sofas of unbelievers:
“fertilize this desert!”
the truth is, we choose
what to believe:
the credulity of a duck’s bill
on an otter’s body
is a small price to pay
for a kiss.