I grip with my mind
I grip with my stomach and shoulders
I grip with my anus

I grip to keep from falling down
into the special hell realm
reserved for children and animals
I grip to keep from falling down
into despair and heartbreak
for those beings
and myself
I grip to try to keep it together
the construction of my imagining
though it is defective
and continues to collapse
and degrade
as bolts fly out of their holes
and concrete turns to dust
before my eyes

the Blessings drip down
in my body
like a raw egg cracked on the top of my head
if I can let go
but You have to hold me first
as if I would otherwise drown
like a new-born babe
then the Nectar drips down
like butterscotch pudding
warm from the stove

I heard it said
that You are Pure Love
the adoration and complete Taking-In
of the Yab and the Yum
Dakin and Dakini
goose and gander
One for the Other
though They are the Same
if this is True
then You can have my mind
You can have my body
You can have the machinations of my life
for they are of no use to me
or anyone else
in their otherwise confused state