and when you see the Buddha
his eyebrows will be comprised of deer moss

and his belly shall contain the sadness of a river
floating with dead tree branches

and when you see the Buddha
he will appear to you as priest of the invisible

slipping from his lips shall be a mute poetry
summoning one true moment in the highlight of a house chamber

and when you see the Buddha
his ears will resemble antennas and ferns

picking up a melodious frequency
from the gateway of emasculated stars

and when you see the Buddha
he might take the form of a pregnant lady

who used to be a disgruntled man
who now holds the secret to everything deep down inside

and when you see the Buddha
he might tell you that there is no blessing

and that there is no sin
but squint you must through the interlacing leaves of the Bodhi tree

and when you see the Buddha
ask him if he’s ever been hit with a belt or had his nose broken by an envious fist

ask him if he’s ever had his heart punctured by the spike of a high-heeled shoe
or gone hungry for four wicked days in a row

ask him if any war is worth the casual loss of limbs
and whether humans have the legal right to construct laws

ask him if we all wallow through this terrible tide of shit
or whether it’s all just a state of mind, state of mind

ask him if the homeboy in the wheelchair will ever fuck again on the beach
or gain any real sense of unmitigated peace

ask him if the flowery narcotics are a benefit to our elevated heads
or whether they are representations of the lacerations to our true aspirations

ask him if the ivy vines ever lose their direction along the way
and if you get to the top of the mountain, isn’t it just a different place to be?

ask the Buddha if he ever wears socks and if so, what color are they
and were they manufactured in a sweatshop in the Philippines
by 9 year-old children smoking cigarettes?

ask him if women are inherently a cruel, cruel breed
or whether they are wisdom-filled angels

ask him if actual wealth is actually possible
or is it all just a disillusioning illusion of a mockery of a sham

ask him if Everything in this life is sacred
or that Nothing is really sacred and Nothing really matters at all

and does there really exist a Buddha within the center of the iron bell
or is it just thick forged metal sitting in a darkened lump?

there does exist a Buddha, there does exist a Buddha
there is no Buddha, there is no god

there is no wisdom, there is no knowledge
there is no god, except for god

and when you see the Buddha
he will know absolutely Nothing but he will be the thinker of all things

and his eyes will light with the flame of eleven thousand candles
tended to and puffed on by silent Chinese dragons

and his legs will cross like licorice in a jar
and he will embody the lines in all things

and by the way, when you see the Buddha
tell him that I said hello
and that I really miss my baby