Mango Lassi

The bedraggled vagabond staggers from the lavatory
Tailor made paisley suit
Frayed at the seams
He stumbles on stage left
Mutters an amen
Cue sycophantic congregation clapping frantically
It just takes one smart alec attempt to define anarchy
To turn an otherwise mediocre night into a true catastrophe
Thankfully he packed the knapsack of magic beans
In a final act of blag he pulled the rabbit from his batty crease

An ocean of mango Lassie lapping at is haggard feet
A flaccid stream of travеllers
Gagging to have their chakras clеaned
His back alley Darshan known to spark acts of savagery
But s'il vous plaît
Silence for the Satsang
And have a seat
And let Baba speak
Prescribe to the doctrine
Haphazardly
As he weaves his spider silk tapestry
A delicate plethora of stained glass images
All depicting the very same fallacy
Miraculously
Something like a phenomenon
An age old tradition
Lead a blind horse to the river and whip him until he drinks it
Despite my penchant for discord and tendency towards mischief
In this instance I'm thinking let the man dream
Don't pinch him
Know the ledge
Here we go again
Invite old gods on the thrones of men
Moments after we've stolen them
His swollen head
Bulbous with this with the calls of a thousand holy men
Telling us to rub the lotion in
Or else we get the hose again

He claims to see the God in me
It's more probable we'll find God in a laboratory
Cotching in his boxers
Horrified by what's on TV
Let the man dream don't pinch him
Existing somewhere between religion and quantum physics
Yet here we all are singing hymns in Hindi
As his minions eyes flicker like a million shattered mirrors
Each one reflecting the same chilling grimace
None made what we witnessed any the less horrific
And man knows
Because I was there in the back row
Didn't raise my hand or ask a question
For lack of a backbone
But from time to time when drifting through the vacuum
I ponder if he was pointing to something substantial
God knows