Proprietary Lock-in

Shangrila Buddhism has proprietary lock-in
Back issues of the Sun
Back flatus of corporate gas
Covering their asses
With rose water, Armani
And Remy-Martin,
They sit on zafus breathing and bleeding
Thinking "Me too!" or,
"I bitch, therefore I am."
Would somebody please go slice that good ham
Basted with sugar and spice,
And try to look nice while the aeon is nigh,
Backpedalled to Niagara,
The honeymoon's over
No more rolling in dough
Or purple fields of clover
No more love thy neighbor's thigh
Nor hate the sin but not the sinner
Dour views wear thin apparel
The emperor's new clothes are criticized
By the free press and feminized
Lord Shakyamuni's gone and bought a condo
The vihara's been subdivided
Monastic dogs are now admitted
Vinaya doggy-style is all the rage
Trust friends with funds have all become
Acharyas with a bottom line
Of filigree-gold homespun.
The story here is told
Of endless freedom in the fold
To remind meter maids counting merit
To check their panties for cooties and abide
The rules which prohibit the keeping of ferrets
Inside Dharmadhatu's vast marble halls.
So now, misty-eyed, we turn back the cataract
And bless the peacemakers on the great falls.