A vision…
Cypress trees 
In the garden
Walking (slouching) towards
Gethsemane (Golgotha)

To be born 
(eviscerated)
In a manger 
Decorated with the viscera of Dunsinane

Pay no attention
To the sword
On the string
My head is merely atman
(Or is it brahman?)

Not self walks into a bar
“Anatta again!?!,” the regulars groan
Orders a drink: Blood of the Weird Sisters

Words of their prophecies
(Pharisees)
Written on the studio walls

The carriage is the moon 
Reflected in the carnage 
Of the putrefaction
Of our afterbirth

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