Escaping the Bonpa Universe

Escaping the Bonpa Universe L. Edgar Otto

With gratitude to my roommate, Bonpa, for access to his math and physics books from the Scientific American book club. He has yet to read all of them as he has an extensive Buddhism collection also. I was thinking today how much I may have wasted my light those times I have been free enough to think- homeless, well that lead to a lot of poetry most of it lost- I mean it is really hard to care about some national disasters when you have your own 911 or Katrina. Anyway, if I were his age a mere 20 years ago I know that it would take ten years to read those books- then again a lot of them are obsolete by the time they are read and all the answers and complexity is not there at the end of reading. But we think this would make our lives and position in the world better- our minds better. Well, good luck to those who meditate and survive their moods of medication, it is in the water here and no one cares making much to do about veterans and things (far as I am concerned we would all be better off as veterans if we shut down the department, especially for this state which- while the city is easy to fall in love with in spring- winter is quite a reality check and I am tempted to give up after so many chances I have given this city to try to fit in, that and god help those who live in a town where the university is a major employer.

Not that I am not well loved and have a lot of friends, but most have moved on, and this dumping ground for the mentally ill, second hand drug schedules if you are unfortunate enough to feel a little patriotic, or religious, and not be disabled- lately too many ask me if the world is coming to an end again- interestingly this is also a place to train rookies. You see, I am bored with the same old scene and the long term treatment for my delusion that wisdom is a noble purpose.

Yet, there is something in the back of my mind that promises an even greater breakthrough but for now I am packing and planning my route- not used to this influx of a few dollars not nearly enough but a windfall if you live like on the street, can tip the barristas on hard times despite their majors- still, I feel so guilty as if this was not money said I earned- even if the government could never afford what under our constitution it owes some of us- even when all we asked for was to be left alone. I am amazed, looking back, that the first time falsely accused in Madison that I staged a hunger strike- heck, I did not eat much then anyway.

It is sad when bonds are broken and we live in some sort of transcendental end like in that movie where the old man turns into a star baby before the falling into a monolith full of stars- he still reeking of his ape origins- sad that so many have passed on and some as I am not hidden could also renew the bonds- especially the young who left too soon. But I must say there are few lives I would trade places with and in counter to regrets for those fallen- occasionally I have to admit I smile when some of the old bastards vanish especially when they could have done so much more with their lives and for others, their slaves and meat for them and cannon fodder that by neglect where I would have made a difference for them they held me back. Perhaps a poem is worth more than a life after all.

But as I said, I am so tired and bored of this place and the same old people and the same old eternal war- I hope a change is good for me- but how many times can we remake our lives and that not just the same old thing- in any case, as long as I have light, and the blessing that no fates will befall me like on some and that I am free to even question the gods for the human purpose of thinking for one self- the project I make next will be so much better I forget the baggage and great losses of the old books and works of art- including, this question of time still a mystery in the heart of things of what might have been in a very wide universe.

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