Of course there were rifts
from the beginning in
the fabric of things that
never mended the
way culture intended and
there were tides and whirlpools
both figurative and literal
one tide brought my brothers and I
out into the sacred
under a moonlit sea off Myrtle Beach
on Styrofoam “surfboards”
waves and stars and warm water
moonlight rivers on the ocean
a lazy whirlpool once trapped me for several minutes
in my huge inner tube early
in the leg of a 4 hour run on the Tama river in Japan
through rapids and beckoning beach parties
a paddle would have probably helped
expedite an escape
almost lost a friend on the same trip
he disappeared in front of me like a magic act
like some leviathan of the deep snatched him
I waited, paddling by hand in circles
debating diving in to try and find him in
that sinkhole or to wait a tad longer
meanwhile his hat whooshed up without him
a few seconds after and
he sputtered to the surface
I have been washed to sea
through ayahuasca, san pedro, peyote, mushrooms, float tanks,
trance states, out of body, lucid dreams
I’ve seen sirens
I have addictive tendencies
that runs in my family, lineage and race if you believe the stuff
about natives and liquor
but I’m pulled to altered states
more or less daily… through meditation,vivid or lucid dreams, path
working during the day, edibles, ale or wine in the evening
feeble attempts to keep the riffs from closing
before I decide to enter