CHAMELEON ENLIGHTENMENT

Fingers, tentacles, transmorphic spatulas,

what does it matter,

the intelligence of bone remains.

How wise it is how spunk shiver moon

pith perfect & pierce

a cotyledon articulation

an infant’s choice is nothing to bet on

even if that hut appeared in the lama’s dream

in techna-fucking-color,

wheel of samsara spun by Vanna in g-string and pasties,

oh quiver those ghosts away and bring us

to the shimmering Nirvana casino with unlimited credit

how spunk shiver moon

how elaborate our sufferings’ camouflage.

How to be what you find yourself in?

How jungle in jungle,

urban in city flux,

avian in air? 

There are reflections of light

and there are the things reflecting

and there is the air through which

these illusions become manifest,

space filled to the blurred edges

with the atomic vibration and discharge

of your personal geography

that travels with you, a bubble,

a force-field that lets everything in

and so, saturate, we waver

breaking apart in the afternoon heat.

The Aegean stretches south

past as far as the eye can see,

how to be dolphin,

how to be dolphin in that sea?

13 May 2014