Kirtan happened last night-
oh how wonderful it was,
I could have stayed there all night.
all eight of us were wailing our heads off,
and it was so beautiful!
I can see it now,
with everyone rising and falling,
at different tones
and it was like one giant orgasm of sound,
everybody’s voice a different color
on a canvas splattered here and streaked there
but totally covered in paint,
no one voice better than any other
voice, everyone wailing their hearts
out and no one letting their insecurities
or those shrill little demons
who live on their shoulders take over,
or even be heard- how could anything
be heard over that racket anyways?-
and we wailed like one being,
like one strange wolf with eight voices
howling at the moon.
Everyone held hands and
it felt so silly at first,
a girl of 22 holding hands
with a woman of 52 holding hands
with a farmer woman smelling like chickens,
and all singing with their eyes closed
sitting on the floor,
but once we got going,
once the vibrations equalized,
there was no thought of feeling ridiculous.
We held hands and rocked
from side to side,
our hands came up and fell down
as they saw fit,
as the energy flowing in our bodies
came together
at that meeting point of fingers and palms,
and we wailed and smiled
and there was no little man
whispering in my ear anymore,
no Norm to be heard,
and we did better than wail it,
we felt it,
all of us felt it
I know we did.
Never mind that outside of kirtan
I think they’re all a bunch of blind buffoons.
None of that mattered
because I wasn’t interacting with them,
just as I know they weren’t interacting
with me.
We were all plugged into the Big Electric Outlet,
an infinity-prong outlet
giving out all the joules, killowats,
or megahertz that you could ever need,
it provides it all for this planet
as well as the next,
and how lucky we were
to have caught that frequency.
At that point,
it wouldn’t have mattered
if I were holding hands with Hitler
on my left
and Charles Manson
on my right,
because it was ALL good,
and ALL means no exceptions,
not for Charles or Adolf,
not even Jesus-
not for me,
and certainly not for Rama,
Krishna, Shiva, Hanuman, or Seeta.
we wouldn’t exist if we weren’t,
not that we actually exist.
you know what I mean.
Even when Barbara wanted us
to sing a hokey hallelujia chant
after it had been made clear to everyone-
through no conspicuous signs,
mind you,
but if you were tuned in
you would have known it too-
that it was time to pack up
and call it a night,
even then it was ALL good.
It is always ALL good,
you understand,
always,
with no exception,
not even when your mother’s boyfriend
whom she met on an online dating site
and who everyone thinks is great
except you
who knows that the man is a complete fraud and is
Satan in disguise
and he kicks you out
of the house
a week after Christmas
with no more than the clothes
on your back and your car keys
in hand-
even then it is ALL good,
it is just the universe
giving you grist for the mill.
It is Vishnu, it is God,
that old devil,
stirring up the pot
to make things interesting,
and the sooner you agree
to let it be,
and to laugh along with God
when the shit
goes flying off the fan,
the sooner you will realize
that it really is ALL good.
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