What the Guru Didn’t Say


I went to see a guru
who knows how to think.
He was tattooed from head to toe,
heavily pierced on his face.
He told me he once worked on Wall St.

I wanted to ask him why
on Earth he’d work on Wall St.
but I knew he would say nothing.

            I wanted to ask a lot of things.

            Did I look like I wanted a lot of things?

I knew he would say nothing,
not out of shame but on account
of his wisdom. He looked so
anciently tired, so surprisingly whole.

He felt so close to me. How anyone
could dare leave his side—

 

*

 

They ask us what do we want—
what do we want—what is it we want—
want—want—want—wantwant—

I can only appreciate this moment

of poetry for a new millennium
of souls who are already forgotten
as they aren’t yet wise.

            We are wise only once—
            at the very end, the guru said.

*

If the end is the beginning, then this is neither.
But guru, how together we must play all and either!

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