The door outside the self
...opens from within
But locks from without
...
His name is on a quilt.
It hangs in the museum.
People from all over
...
You call me evil, the infidel or worse
But I'm your brother, aren't I?
Made in the same image of the same
...
Death is waiting patiently outside the door
Smoking a cigarette
Notching the minutes into his belt
His dark eyes fixed upon some distant star
...
We are the holograms of our
Spiritual selves
Matter but a figment of a
...
The heart gets used up
Year after year after year
The mileage wearing on balding tires
Sure, it can be recharged, with sufficient juice
...