“And that’s the Way it is”

A prose poem response to: take what you want

Mr. Buddha said desire begets suffering; it’s the pointy aphorism he habitually reminded ancient India, like Walter Cronkite tagging “And that’s the way it is” to the hippocampus of American television.

This applies to aversion as well, of course; what is aversion but a desire not to do something, be some somewhere or with someone.

Anyhow, about seven thousand years later, I find myself psychoanalyzing pumpkin pie and pot brownies, addressing the true meaning behind my saliva. Are sugar and marijuana conspiring to keep me trapped in states of perpetual reincarnation? Maybe. Quite possibly even.

So, with porcelain fingers I start to pluck the mold from the shower tiles of my unconscious. It’s a slippery business, and I keep finding women there; each time I purge them they return with horny vengeance.

As anyone who’s anybody knows, life is a costume party. Also, the key to stopping these terrible psyche banshees from cramping my alchemy is as simple as disowning my name, body-mind, and social security number. First, I consult the phonebook.

I call myself Truman Burbank and when the firmament snaps and insects attain self-consciousness, I stand, head tilted up in the creepy-crawly rain, bare feet kissing rubys overflowing from the sewers. With a calculated effort, I don’t do anything.

Still, I must muse my heart, abandon rival dance crews notwithstanding. In the heat of this cyclone, I can tell there’s a contrast between “desiring” and “preferring”.

Walter Cronkite and I breath into each other’s nostrils watching the weather report, the only news we need — I mean incline towards, detached from emotional complexes. That’s all my fingers have left to type. Walter Cronkite, Mr. Buddha, eat your hearts out.

Daniel Barry 2022

I found the concept of “porcelain fingers” particularly appealing. Thanks J.D.