Writing as catharsis


Posted in Poetry, Prose by Lachlan R. Dale on March 11, 2013

Ascetic BuddhaNo, friends,
I wish you misery.
I wish you a hard death.
I hope when your time comes to die
You die with a sneer and a smile;
Hating the stones, the trees, the dirt, the earth;
Your mouth bitter with the salt of all human things;
Burnt by the sun, frayed by the winds,
Gaunt with starvation,
Hollow-eyed with renunciation,
Hailing curses to the sky for the vultures circling above;
A thin, solitary jackal,
A ragged specter,
A cruel joke,
Misshapen, broken,
Fighting the pull of the void with your last breath,
And failing, finally, falling in.


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