Sutra

My dad says, when using the same spoon to eat
Both his shepherd's pie and his trifle,
"It all ends up in the same place, anyway".
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

He's right, of course. Everything turns to shit.
I feed the hungry ghosts but skip my breakfast:
I'll only end up digesting. Cut out this swollen belly.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

In this season's morning air I
Stretch a salutation to the sun - you
Inconstant bastard - you pricktease, you.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

At least work's done with. So it goes.
"Ah, but the weekend's over before it begins".
I may as well stink and congeal in my bed.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

My arthritic bones are dancing in the kitchen,
Reverberating meditatively.
Let those bones be still; they'll only crumble.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

In this immeasurable cosmos, this empty life,
I ceremoniously push you down the stairs
To remind us of our fleshy mortality.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.

Release attachments: they might end.
Cut ties, transcend love, and fuck it all.
Rip out your own heart, and all affection -
It will only fail.
Om Namo Bhagavate Rudraya Namah.