(I found this poem I’d written back in 2000.  It’s one of the few I have in digital format.)

Total immersion in that bitter lake,
surrounded by successful satans.

They tell of greatness, they tell of righteousness
they describe what it’s like to feel.

Another day or another place a beggar
a man walking the street
with no place to go.

Another time or place for greatness
on big screen televisions and well-lit podiums
spouting nonsense and sporting large paychecks.

A well-planned path delivers the goods
as unsure as they seem.

A well-planned path seeks to fulfill.

Is the grass greener on the other side of this fence?

Is it brown, dying vegetation or tall, flowing stalks of green happiness?

Are there two paths of total immersion?

A path with forks that lead to boomerang circles,
falling back on itself with pre-planned perfection?

The immersion comes, passes, and comes again and again until it overtakes all
in that sweet, sweet lake.

January 25, 2000

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