The Laughing Pisspot, (the drunken Buddha)

I walk the petaled path unafraid of alliteration.

I have no fear of obliteration,

I have no fear, except for fear,

and that’s quite frightening in itself.

I find I’m frozen solid, I’m icy with inaction,

cold hands, cold heart— where do I start?

How do I start?

Where do I start to begin?

I’m riddled with sin.

I can’t answer the riddle of life.

I’m not Omar Khayyam but just like Popeye,

I am what I am.