on temporal anorexia

The cold spoon of indecision
taps three times

(tap

tap

tap)

Hemingway in my lap
clocks knocking at the door:

Have I been here before?

Sri Krishna said:

The soul never takes birth
and never dies at any time
nor does it come into being
again when the body is created.

But am I nothing more than a soul?

Imagine Bhagavan, hammock-bound,
swinging from the tree of Skakyamuni
magic eight ball in his hand:

Perhaps the soul is

jealous of beauty
jealous of creation
jealous of dissolution

Nothing more than circles

stacked

one

the Other.