~

my flippant tone 

is beginning to bother even me

~

sunday i went to mass

at the catholic church nearby

which has a hispanic

what to do you call it—congregation

never will i have that depth of faith

i wasn't raised with it

and my personae or psyche or psychology 

balks at miracles

no matter that i want it

have been looking for it

the jesus thing, as my friend put it

isn't working 

i still have papers to write and they matter

and i find running 

on a stomach full of chocolate cake 

wearies my legs on the first hill

and i'm gaining weight

which is a big faith-based let down

~

i do have faith in dolphins

but they're rare these days

i guess it's a seasonal thing

and faith in exploratory slip-slidey buddy-showers

with aloe vera and coconut oil sudsy soap

also rare

~

all of which is silliness

but it isn't getting me closer

to whatever it is i'm seeking

~

what next

climb cold mountain

sit at the feet of han shan

brew his tea for him

play the cowgirl to the chink

à la sissy hankshaw

let him stick his . . . up my . . .

as he intones 

I believe in everything; nothing is sacred. I believe in nothing; everything is sacred. Ha Ha Ho Ho Hee Hee.

~

so, i suppose

the search goes on

and the beat goes on

la di da di de

la di da di da

~

refs: "the chink," and the quote

by tom robbins "even cowgirls get the blues"

lyric by sono bono, "beat goes on"