Dr. Randall K. Rogers

To Reckon
I got my goddamn hippie wings
I fuckin’ floated away
it appears
into the nuclei of the UNIVERSAL ONE
no god sat
couldn’t find any wiggle of a force that
would take the job either
looked around
kinda got full of myself
being a man, going
with this dying thing,
when I found out hey
this dying trip
they, whatever, it really
can’t kill you
I was dead but when
nothin’ went black shut down
and my eyeless sight
could still see,
I said shit,
is this dying?
Am I dead?
Because I sure ain’t got no body
and I’m emanating
I started saying, shit, is this dead?
come on, kill me off!
Wither croak gasp rattle and all go
dark on me.
I started getting angry
being dead but still me
alive with no body
among hexagonal sort of forces
waves blurry fast quivering
I knew who they were –
fellow dead whatevers –
well, shit, where do we, I, go?
I wondered….
I was getting comfortable
I got to liking being dead
no worries, man,
then, shit,
when I got a grip
I was seemingly poised with a
do I want to destroy all there is? – I
was looking light years upon like
close by universes – and I said hey
man I never asked for this job
but goddammit
hell if I gotta be god
and I bellowed a god voice saying
well, shit, try to be cool worlds,
universes, etc., man
love one another and all that you
I tells them in my god voice
hell, go the bob marley way
I told the universes
the matrix the everything that was
only I after all
rasta, man, I said, Jah!!
smoke the herb brethren and sister-en,
I said,
and take care of and be nice to one
I was really getting into it
ordering as god everything to be
mellow and cool, and smoke da herb,
mon, when damn it I started losing my
Shit, I was coming to my senses going
back into that
applewhite shell sort of browny grey
and withered husk shell of a body
thing an expressionless motionless
gandolf-like thing having all
the life sucked out of it and all the
irresponsibility in overdoing it the
partying and depressioning done in it,
all the hours/days on end jerking the
dick thing limp hanging from it for
hours a day, each day,
hypersexualized, doing way too much
meth, watching free youporn
smoking constant weed and indonesia
keretek clove and tobacco strong
Garam brand cigarettes.  Then,
in frames, zooms, I returned
to the char-lunged needle poked
hurtin’ lil’ dead withered closed eye
grey fella laying sprawled dead
clutching a sheet-less mattress
clinging in febrile effort to an earlier era
when foolish I fought to live in the
thing, to preserve, to cling to a life
that was the old body mind idiot me
I didn’t want to go back
the wall crawler of a lifeless creature
that lay dead there
and hell, the foot on the damn thing
hurt when I sort of bitterly started
entering the thing,
then the more I got inside it the body
I could see blood was gushing out of
the big toe which appeared cut,
almost severed but still connected
and bright red drops of blood
silver dollar pancakes splattered
Pollack-like on the bland beige tile
still connected though,
that painful bloody toe,
and it sort of hurt too, the foot the
whole leg on the thing as I eased
fighting to stay out of it into the thing
reanimating it
further in I thought shit, I hope
I’m not missing both legs or even
one, severed, cut off you know,
because I didn’t know what the hell
happened to the thing when I was
I don’t want to – oh hell I’ll just have
to handle it – I told myself
and I was back fully looking out of
the eyeballs feeling moving my fingers
and bony skinny concentration camp
speed diet frame and arms….
I began again thinking in that head
arms legs everything worked as I
took stock of the old vehicle.
I got up from clutching sprawled
position face down on the mattress,
the television was still on, janis joplin
cd in the opened holder of the dvd
I then thought,
shit, I wanted to die, what the fuck, I
gotta die twice?
I said out loud sort of disgusted
angry-like to the cosmic
non-organization whose god or
organizing principle was, as I
had found out on my journey, was
What the fuck! Come on, it’s time!
Time to go! I could speak with the
mouth of the thing me now no
booming god voice talking to
universes anymore just me in my
cramped cluttered filthy thrashing
trash papers books things I been
lubing and shoving up my ass
trying to figure out what the
attraction and sensation of having a
huge cock shoved roughly and deeply
to the hilt up my rectum was like
preparing me in case I went gay.
But no, there must be work for me to
do among you earth cambodia
folk I surmised so the
conscious-less energy that is the
something from nothing which you
see and be when dead and alive too I
guess sent me back, shuttled me
Shit, more work, I thought,
I wanted rest
dead black nothing rest
but goddammit the soul…I
experienced it, it don’t die, it appears,
at least in my experience in that neck
of the woods dimension-realm and all
them shifty force shimmering folk that
populate ghost acres, well, it’s like
you just go hang out in celestial energy,
with the other shifty force thingy
things sorry sap dead-alive magneto
pulsars flitting around nothing
much to do ‘cept check out the new
dude or dudette that blazingly arrives
asking what the hell?
And like most humans on your earth
to me, at least,
these us-everythings being the
structure-less structure of space-time
statistics, and moving swimming
flying about in it, the matrix
creates the space the area the thing it
goes along in wherever it goes, sort
of not boldly going where no thing
has gone before but creating matter
thought dimensions as you motor
about the void, it, which is basically an energy
field, a huge and tiniest field of an air
hockey puck with-in and upon a
multidimensional you-create thing
with no start no stop, a creation and
evaporation of universes worlds present moments
populating beings creatures where ever and
how you choose to move Creation, the
whole apparatus appears essentially
personality-less, neutral, a big bland
nothing, like most people I meet. Until
I arrive.
End of story.

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