If I Was Buddha

The stars’ elasticity stretches across these plastic cities,
I lay in a room more like a tomb staring at the gravity.
We are small clusters of neurons, bearing down on a crossing,
I lay awake all night, thoughts churning, turning and tossing.
With the devil on one shoulder, and demons on the other,
I hold the bible open on the breastplate of my lover.
She says, “We are so doomed, all alone in this place.”
I say, “I feel so ugly next to the beauty of your face.”
Outside trucks beep and back up and stack up cement pillars,
these children weren’t raised by the village, but by the pillaging.

If I were Thor, I would throw my hammer, yell, ‘I can’t afford these fjords.’
If I were Zeus, I would throw my thunderbolt, give up my lease on Greece.

Even when you’re really near, I can barely hear what you whisper.
Breathing close to my ear, playing with my zipper.
Even when you’re in that white dress, I can’t tell if you’re looking at me.
You told me you might confess that you like to make me happy.

Is your passport stamped? Or are you just passing through port?
Do you aquire trophies like me only for sport?

Baby, there’s a train and a place for you underneath it.
I’m the villain with the mustache, the one you are seeking.
There’s a dashing, handsome hero but he’s busy thinking
about where to have lunch and other mundane things…

But this is not a Western. This is only Wednesday.

Life is not that exciting, I wish it were.
The minute you start to see the picture,
the goddamn image begins to  blur.
There was an angel and her eyes so demure,
were teal blue and her skin was heavenly pure.
I stood nearby, casting a glance at her.
That was the day I asked her to dance,
and she said sure…

If I were Buddha, I would sit under a tree and fall asleep and give up on all of us.