H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g
N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n
Too weary to fold my clothes.
Too weary to order vicodin on-line, I delete spam from my
Too weary to wear a condom, I lose interest in sex.
Too weary to lift the toilet seat, I sit and pee like a girl.
Too weary to say “I love you” back to my wife, I grunt
and switch off the light.
Too weary to sleep, I watch the full moon plummet
through the starless night sky towards dawn.
Too weary to keep my eyes open during Tibetan Buddhist
teachings, I daydream about tomorrow’s lunch.
Too weary as manager to read 10 page handwritten letter
from three year retreatants.
Too weary to join the sangha dancing, I go home & watch
James Bond alone.
Too weary to invent a story about a gun.
Too weary to work as cook, I turn in letter of resignation
to my cat who complains loudly about the rain on our
cheap tin roof.
Too weary to trod the One Path to complete
Enlightenment, I leave the crowded shrine tent to go home
[Originally published in NHS 2005, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs05/peter_marti.html.]