Hara: The Fantasy as Reality

We laugh, in our smug self-assured certainty.

Truth in America plays the music of no-flute.

What of the ultimate reality? Perception?

Television cameras justify all ends. No Gods sit in judgment

so long as the cameras roll.

So long as one solitary soul is made aware

of an unfolding moment from a human experience.

So long as one other human spirit views sympathetically.

The ultimate fantasy is then indistinguishable

from the ultimate reality.

And ignorance may crow

until the voice grows horse thereafter.

But no matter, for the moment alone is truth.

Too far from land, a bird drops in death

to the sea and is consumed

without bias by the cosmos.

While the sea does not care,
 
neither does it blame.

---------------------

(1983 after Barb H.'s BD at 'Juan's Place', Berkeley)