Death For Lunch then Back to No Work

Crow dines with flies

Fanatics claim corpses

Our futures linger and lurk

We flee from the illusion of transformation

We hide and ignore it in our fresh delights

We could teach ourselves to embrace destiny

Practice and preparation and training

Maybe let go of ourselves in service

     to anyone at all.

Free of reference and preference

A spontaneous wanderer offering eyes

     to see the way

Rest in uncontrived awareness

A pure and worthless vagabond

      bare of business and distraction

You are my duty and so I quest 

      your consecration  simply to

      do that which I do.