Sadhu

Sadhu

I swear I’ll be there with that

Trenchant text scribbled on onion skin

Mining the depths of ambiguity,

Extracting specks of gold to be

Spun into a beautiful, fragile necklace

Dangling over your breast.

I swear I’ll be there rain-waiting for the bus

Because cars no longer work in the world.

If you kiss me once, the skywater will stop.

Tongue and cheek pierced with silver needles,

Tied down with hemp and cloth, the biggest

Gathering in human history, felt in a touch.

I swear I’ll be there on my failed Sadhu path

Painted face, long beard, begging for alms—

A choice I’m overjoyed to abandon for

The world of things, none of which lasts,

Tossed into the bad ideas rubbish bin,

Welcoming with open arms the fleeting.