Reality was a fresh squeeze perpetual
In the shadow of the city of dreams
The jade of New Amsterdam
Wrought from the palaces of Vienna
In the cathedral of a home
Climbing with the vines of the ego
A temptation to cover
Thy nude embrace
And the glass apple was melting beneath the sun
Set through the rift of the bay
Like the great white and gold fleet a sailing
And a western light was calling
To the rising of the east
On the loose strands of capital investment to cut
And the long debts of immediate return to meet
The ambiguities of olden souls
Alleviated in the measure of enlightenment
And forced to dance in a communal reason
The severance of the ego in a united existence
Upon the alignment of demeanour
A façade of mutual agreement
Superimposed unto itself
In order to dissolve into the machinery of legalese
A misanthrope
A harlot of high esteem
For the absence of any attachment
And drew many a groping phrase
To let them go into the solitude of thy night
Like no one was ever calling thy name
Out from an ecstatic moment
Wherein the ego becomes to the world
A simplicity tending to nothing
The limit as approaches zero
The product of emptiness and a variable whole number
That is
Emptiness always reproduces its own
The world becoming to the ego
Should the ego monetize itself
In the columns of an expense report
Generating one nuance at a time
Stripped of entropic potentiality
And by force of reason to fall in line
A dynamic structure of one’s imagining
Drawing the commune to season
How long were we sleeping on the harvest for?
Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com
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