Disloyal Mind

my mind is disloyal
to Guru and guide
—never to my God,
with whom I am
on friendly terms
since years back,
first on terms of
Hi how are you
and now on terms of
When will you be home for dinner
—because the moment
you put a human face on it
it’s all
Hey that guy’s teaching something else
Something comfortable and easy
But my teacher gave me something
and said
Dig into this,
Mess with it,
Make it work
and part of me is offended
by the Hey this ain’t
warm and cozy and fun
This shit is work
But my friend God
comes in late for dinner again
and says past a mouthful of fruit
He’s right, you know,
Just doing what I told him
And now you’ve got to
Do what he says
So I sigh
Because God gives pretty good advice.



Is it not a great comfort
to know that your city
is populated by so many ghouls?
A ghost walks down my street
each and every night, about 2 o’clock,
alone, slowly, with unknown purpose.
What if the goblins? Those spirits,
hideous of countenance, alive
or dead no-one can say —
skitter about the rooftops
and peer into apartment windows.
By three strips of holy ash,
they all recognize their own.
With so many terrors about,
how could I not feel safe?