suppose there a mountain
you climb when you die
I have no proof, suppose with your mind
the peak is where all love emits
the spastic shocking wave love is
and it's glowing just for you
suppose it to be true

I think it often you may be God
in fact, I might as well
suppose we have confined ourselves
to rotting skin of man's own hell
why are we here then
God where's your point

to live to learn
to smoke up a joint
to write messy poems
with rivery structure
to **** up a line
and slant on the others
to do it again and again
and again
for the mountain, I suppose
you climb in the end