Mango Lassi

The bedraggled vagabond staggers from the lavatory Tailor made paisley suit Frayed at the seams He stumbles on stage left Mutters an amen Cue sycophantic congregation clapping frantically It just takes one smart alec attempt to define anarchy To turn an otherwise mediocre night into a true catastrophe Thankfully he packed the knapsack of magic beans In a final act of blag he pulled the rabbit from his batty crease An ocean of mango Lassie lapping at is haggard feet A flaccid stream of travellers Gagging to have their chakras cleaned His back alley Darshan known to spark acts of savagery But s'il vous plaît Silence for the Satsang And have a seat And let Baba speak Prescribe to the doctrine Haphazardly As he weaves his spider silk tapestry A delicate plethora of stained glass images All depicting the very same fallacy Miraculously Something like a phenomenon An age old tradition Lead a blind horse to the river and whip him until he drinks it Despite my penchant for discord and tendency towards mischief In this instance I'm thinking let the man dream Don't pinch him Know the ledge Here we go again Invite old gods on the thrones of men Moments after we've stolen them His swollen head Bulbous with this with the calls of a thousand holy men Telling us to rub the lotion in Or else we get the hose again He claims to see the God in me It's more probable we'll find God in a laboratory Cotching in his boxers Horrified by what's on TV Let the man dream don't pinch him Existing somewhere between religion and quantum physics Yet here we all are singing hymns in Hindi As his minions eyes flicker like a million shattered mirrors Each one reflecting the same chilling grimace None made what we witnessed any the less horrific And man knows Because I was there in the back row Didn't raise my hand or ask a question For lack of a backbone But from time to time when drifting through the vacuum I ponder if he was pointing to something substantial God knows