The crocodile with a porcupine on her head
sidled down to the library at a temperature of
35 degrees, crying in abject self-pity, no water
anywhere, no swamp nearby, walking on heated
feet, a burning pavement, remembering all life
supposed to be sacred, awareness is good

No more for this crocodile - awareness is
terrible in heat like this, being a bureaucratic
denizen of the netherworld of red-tape society
in the 21st century means no creative work, no
morality, only an ethics of serving the Moloch
of a paperless Internet society

Smothering the soul, burying the passions,
living the life of the undead – apparently, that
is what we are, our soul lives forever, but in
physical we are only undead while in non-
physical we are truly alive – thank heaven,
I can’t wait to progress from Mother

Earth, human society is an inter-subjective
construct aimed at suffering to cleanse our
spirit – from what I don’t know, probably the
desire to live – I am almost totally cured,
never wanting to live in physical ever again!

Margaret Alice

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-crocodile-with-a-porcupine/