I
rebirth is the sign
I have seen in neon karma,
judging by my scenery.
II
not some paranormal awakening,
nor a Zen-like inner peace:
I am far from stopping.
III
evolution drives the bus;
I’m afraid to lose
what I don’t already have.
IV
potential energy = power,
a force to select the future
that the past dictates I want now.
V
molt like the mad spider
Mordenkainen;
commit yourself to the House of Bedlam.
VI
slough the skin
before it roughens into
the wrinkles you wear forever.
VII
youthfulness is vitality,
the vitality to withstand
change.
VIII
this death must be dyed
to match the colorful shirt
I wish to wear tomorrow to work.
Evolution Drives the Bus
Posted: December 21, 1994 in PoetryTags: Change, Death, Energy, Power, Spider, Zen
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