and while we’re on the subject
of god
let me tell you
of my holy mind
and how my holy mind
allows me not
to make any
holy
decisions
and how the holy
holy word
that bounces between
my holy
hemispheres
and how the holy
hair that latches onto
my
holy
neural
cells
and how the holy
synaptic
packages snap through
wily
windy moors of
grey

and holy holy ginsberg
how i hope you’d appreciate my
howl
and though the politics
don’t interest me
i hope religion is close enough

and how i wish that i were buddhist
a buddhist buddhist jew
and krishna plays his golden flute
and dances on my brain

and holy mr. ginsberg
how could you take the pain

to understand quite
what is going on
in every
crevice
of everything

how could you take that knowledge to the knees
and not buckle beneath the pain
how could you stand the windy torrents
flying sideways at your face

and your humble little chubby self
and your stubby little cock
you hair of adam
your beard of eve
your knees
so
wounded with knowledge
of all of everyday life.