The crocodile with a porcupine on her head <br />sidled down to the library at a temperature of <br />35 degrees, crying in abject self-pity, no water <br />anywhere, no swamp nearby, walking on heated <br />feet, a burning pavement, remembering all life <br />supposed to be sacred, awareness is good <br /> <br />No more for this crocodile - awareness is <br />terrible in heat like this, being a bureaucratic <br />denizen of the netherworld of red-tape society <br />in the 21st century means no creative work, no <br />morality, only an ethics of serving the Moloch <br />of a paperless Internet society <br /> <br />Smothering the soul, burying the passions, <br />living the life of the undead – apparently, that <br />is what we are, our soul lives forever, but in <br />physical we are only undead while in non- <br />physical we are truly alive – thank heaven, <br />I can’t wait to progress from Mother <br /> <br />Earth, human society is an inter-subjective <br />construct aimed at suffering to cleanse our <br />spirit – from what I don’t know, probably the <br />desire to live – I am almost totally cured, <br />never wanting to live in physical ever again!<br /><br />Margaret Alice<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-crocodile-with-a-porcupine/
