Mr. Newcastle

རྫོང་གསར་གྱི་བརྡའ།

Dear Newcastle Maharatna
Lets take a drink of freedom like two
Old-fashioned vagabonds.
You have so many guises
Why not try being a Latino laborer
Or a farm hand in upstate New York
Or let me help us find
A  nice Splitting-Off practice hillside
We can offer Deviprasad then
Fall into shamanism, animalism and infernal screaming
All as a matter of formality, of course
You have the Yeshe Lama
So do I -- but would we ever let ourselves practice?
You with mountains of privilege
I with bundles of distraction and Facebook friends
My stuff will be the kindling
Yours the furnace feedstock
We could make a bonfire Agnihotra
Of worldly and supramundane dharmas
Just for a spell
I'll be your point man
Smuggling your movie-star countenance
In the back rows of Trailways bus
From one sleepy mountain crossroads to the next
Leaving town after town surreptitiously
Each time you're spotted in street clothes
I'll plot us another course of random motion
Across a shimmering summer samsara
Of arid American dreams.