Thursday, October 16, 2003

from Dzogchen Interferon: By Peter Marti

Fifteen Years Sober

street drugs 20 years ago
brought me here
infected with a virus
I must kill with different drugs
—a chemo cocktail that wears me out
makes me grouchy
and fatalistic
gives me bad headaches
for which I take drug Acetaminophen.

I’ve OD’d on sugar
and been told “knock it off”
but grab handfuls of candy
when I can sneak it.

I love to cook, plan days
around food
growing up, we never had butter
except for company
now I’m never far from it
melted over popcorn
with garlic & lemon
for sauces, roux, toast, pureed with roasted garlic
on fresh baked bread.

I crave what I don’t need
for a shot of morphine when the headaches worsen
want everything to taste & feel good but
The Buddha said: “this is the Desire Realm”
so Want itself must not be wrong
the beautiful woman desired is perfect
the strange soft flower laden air, this January
somehow appearing
several valleys over from my Lama
is to be enjoyed with clear senses
is preferable to cleaning the cat box
—but no better and maybe worse

if I become unhappy when the breeze shifts
and I no longer possess
the things of this world
I want.
I loved drugs and I love food
but if they kill me sooner than I was meant
and I can’t even help one being escape the Wheel
of endless suffering realms
then I must stop
create new recipes and disciplines
which harm none
and somehow manage
to taste good too.


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