Well, the Buddha’s in the Buddhafield
And Christ is in the church.
(They say that) Krishna’s in the temple;
Pan’s in the silver birch.
But, you know I can’t hear them whisper
I can’t hear them cry,
(Because) I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.
Well, I’ve been down to the ashram
And I’ve worn the orange robes.
I’ve closed my eyes…
Today, I am the dark angel.
Not Hermes delivering Persephone from the underworld,
but the one who soars down,
takes Eurydice back where she belongs.
Who did she think she was, anyway?
She left Orpheus to do all the work;
who can blame him for faltering?
I’d have done it on purpose.
Fuck Apollo and all his weightless radiance.
Fuck Zeus, Aphrodite and the rest;
I’m going to Hades…
1.
She wanted to know how the ‘in’ felt;
so familiar with the ‘out’
that a glass wall of her own making
hedged the air around her.
She wanted to feel the warmth of ‘kin’
but did not know the words
for ‘hearth’ or ‘kith’ or even ‘aah’
spoken in the golden fireside.
She looked through the window
and saw Baba Yaga & dangerous bears
where there…