Among the Redwood Cathedrals
I consorted with the aesthetes;
the pitiless bohemians who
chew sawed-off language invented by
shy protohippies enroute to
a never-ever land.
Zeitgeist is jammed in the kitchen sink of being;
the polyglot old-soul seeks a reputation, the fool,
my eyes go binocular at the hilarious stars above
and skirmish with my beloved reality, I risk
a minor-version of spiritual enlightenment.
off chanting with the forests again,
a riff architect of a wide ocean oracular;
my wide eyes still searching for the
burning archangels that dwell under the
sea of ocean consciousness.
Under the blinking fluorescent lights
of Dante’s Inferno my wretchedness resets—
fragments of light, unconscious and in revolt.
I guess I have had enough of the moan
from the souls that roam across the earth.