Mind is ever a tourist
Then toss them into an already
So I craft my words into those guides
That will offer you something fresh
From the Hidden’s Tavern.
Few things are stronger than
The mind’s need for diverse
I am glad
Not many men or women can remain
Faithful lovers to the unreal.
There is a kind of adultery
That God encourages:
Your spirit needs to leave the bed
The gross, the subtle, the mental worlds
Become as a worthless husband.
To utilize their superior intelligence
So that their hour’s legacy
Can make us all stronger and more clement.
Sometimes a poem happens like this one:
The mule I sit on while I recite
Starts off in one direction
But then gets drunk
And lost in