write words of wisdom on crumpled twenties
toss them impulsively around
on inward command
hoping read comes before spend
imagine there is this messenger
who secretly hides in me
personally I know
they tell me that I overwater plants
over-feed domestic animals
go to the pound
in hopes of finding recognition
love rain and never think of floods
wanted trees to rule the landscape
wish I spoke cloud
use to feel like people didn’t realize
that they were always in moving cars of themselves
can’t understand
why our species is like a rash to the planet
every where we go
and everything we do
leaves irritation as a means of species expression
I have heard people remark
why are there mosquitos
under my breath
I have pondered
why are we here
with the same sense of delusion versus actual inquiry
there is this band of traveling angels
and one of them lives through me
I don’t know how that works
but I’m just saying
check within yourself occasionally
divine is in the disguise of a master plan
and nobody in their right mind
is going to disclose their efforts on this behalf
we are all messengers
until light lives upon light . . .
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