ascète? peut-être

until they wither and die

one day i want to

walk to a field some

where

where i will bring

everything i do not need

in order to live.

and in this field i will

dig a hole

and i will bury 

all the unnecessary things in my life.

all the vhs tapes

the lps 

the dress shoes

and boots of spanish leather

the pictures of owls

and airplanes

purchased at thrift stores

over the years

the books

the action figures

from my childhood

ponda baba and dash rendar

the nicks 

the knacks

the typewriters

the newspapers

and so on.

every last trophy of selfishness 

every monument to material

all the wants 

in place of the needs

i will cover everything with soil

pack it tight

rake it

and i will sow the seeds

to plant a garden

on top of the cache

and in weeks 

or months

up will grow queen annes lace

from between american werewolf in london

and the empire strikes back

lift your skinny fists like antennas to heaven

will yield white daisies

morning glories will lay down

their roots beside

bookends and bridge over troubled water

franny and zooey 

or hot water music

will produce ladies slippers

or chrysanthemums

and they will flourish.

children will come to the garden

with their mothers

and they will dance and play

atop the relics of my selfish past

between the petals and stalks

of the beautiful present

they will laugh and smile 

amid my materialism

and self-centeredness.

they will pick the dandelions

whose roots lay in a twelve inch

darth vader doll's chest

and they will give them to their 

mothers who will take them home

and treasure them

putting them in vases

or on windowsills or

dining room tables

until they wither and die.

oh - to part with the things of this world

in such a way

the earthly possessions 

that so often posses us

the things that capture 

our attention our

time our money.

just to be free

in such a way.

oh to be free.