—  PREVIOUS WORK: Escape from Samsara —


My Dharma teacher told us about a game of make believe he played with his brother in which he was Tarzan meeting the Six Million Dollar Man, which reminded me of a game I played with my sister called Escape from East Berlin which she never was into playing. I wonder what make believe games Prince Siddhartha played when he was a child because I’m sure Shakyamuni Buddha must have had quite an imagination to have seen the world without suffering and to make us believe it was within the realm of possibility. I reflect on how the kids from Corona don’t want to listen to me when I try and tell them they should draw the faces of Chiba figures proportionately smaller than normal humans with the eye line in the lower fourth of the face and how when riding the subway back to my apartment my father tells me not to take up two seats with my bag because it’s against the Rules of Riding the Subway. After I focus my energies on the wisdom of a Buddhist nun who wrote there is no place that is not pervaded by Buddha, an enlightened mind, I find myself consulting a Magic 8 Ball this without fail gives me the same prediction: Signs point to Yes




There is nothing within the watch that can identify the watchmaker. Sometimes a watch is relaxed and immobile but the watchmaker can be very busy, darting from one opera obligation to another. Some people think that the beer is the intoxication or some part or function of the drunkenness. The beer is a physical object that can be seen within the fantasies or photographed or drank in secret. In scriptures, the hammer is contained within the idea of the nail, one inseparable from the other. When the hammer falls, it goes onto the next mission, after it drives the nail away, into the territory of the wood. If the afterlife is not a word, nor a path of the writing, what is it? It is a formless continuum that bridges the gap between perceiving and understanding. The miracle is formless, unobservable by an ocean of inquiry. The question, quoted by the owl, is not a real question. The prayer, launched into the ozone, is never a physical offering seen by the physical eyes, it cannot be photographed or repaired by flicking a switch. Therefore, the Weather Spirits are not the breeze, but simply pathways to the breeze. It is very important to distinguish disturbed supermarkets of misery from peaceful ones. ~24~ As explained by a one-time shopper, some disturb our inner peace creating atmospheres of desirous attachment contained within the hungry ghosts realm. We may think that our suffering can be cured by an IKEA sofa but instead we must become spiritual predators and hunt down our delusions replacing them with the atmosphere of permanent inner peace. This is the real meaning of lightning.



She gives birth to a cat under a full moon of a placebo night sky.   She is one out of three hundred thousand women who gave birth today allergic to imaginary roses, sneezing fruit and peppermint drops.  I imagine all the escalators transport unknown state secrets to strangers, creating a relay race with manila folders of frustration and rage.  The doctors map neurological cobwebs; red lights dance over a protective covering of mucus that shields the neurons’ pattern of firing. The doctors inject alternatives into her brain while rabbits sleep in a time free environment. I know the atmosphere will improve, this organization will make changes; insiders only please.  I realize that to understand this issue I have to drink hard liquor and think sideways. Our affair had been a blessing that helped us chase earthquakes in the rain.  Falling desert grains mark off the moments during her period of isolation. I orchestrate the rhythm that occurs when time is lost in order to facilitate my bare knuckled self-transformation cultivated with a fly on-the-wall vantage point and a touch of self-deception.  She is nodding off, so pleasant among a group of sleeping pigeons feeling that deep dark delta sleep filled with ignorance and bliss.