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There is a problem with irony in its
Confused design and geography
Neither destination nor foundation
Avoiding pluses and minuses
Spending time between the two
A tight smirk never a chuckle
The superior lips pursed just so
Across an otherwise nondescript
Profile back lit in the study

Brahma lying on the lotus blinks
Ah, another universe
Brahma lying on the lotus blinks
Ah, another universe
Brahma lying on the lotus blinks
Ah, another universe
Brahma lying on the lotus blinks
Ah, another universe

There’s a warmth
on my upper lip, left side
that spreads from inside
just to moustache edge
at the corner of my mouth

chipotle chili powder dust
on my breakfast egg
the egg steam-fried
laid over toast with cheese

dried basil sprinkled, and salt
a hard sharp cheddar
the void will be filled
O this endless emptiness

If you do not take care,
now, remembering then,
could ruin everything:
all of your plans since
this morning’s breakfast
at the local diner with
eggs over easy, home fries,
a side of bacon, coffee,
buttered toast, little
plastic packages of jam.
Maybe it is time for lunch?

If we saw earth’s blood
pumped in the rapture of life
spilling into oak leaves
darkening triumphantly in
rolling russet waves on the hills,
would we know it for the sign of love it is?

Would we see with clear eyes
this evidence of Herculean love-labor
this earnest unrelenting
industry of living
ecstatically culminating
in death’s embrace of release?

Or would we see only
lovely fall colors
and think it a gaudy show of whimsy?
Pray our eyes be open
to the truth
within the truth.