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Oddities, Commodities, and Sophia Behind the Curtain.

Sitting in reflection,
I can clearly
see where I should
and should not be,

where, how my
nature would be wasted,
on what lands it might
be cultivated,

damned and burned at the stake
or honored and revered.

Where did I come from?
How did I end up here?

Difference
here means prejudice
or reverence, distinction
or dysfunction.

Insanity atop
insanity.
Oddities are commodities,
can’t you see that?

Yet you spit on them.
Get wet or hard for them. 
Never, not for a fucking second
do you try to clear your head,

back up and perceive in virgin
lucidity, piercing the membrane
with one dagger of a third eye
triangulating with the mundane
couple on the truth, traveling 

beyond your psychological
prototypes, stereotypes,
your community of schema

to naked
reality dancing
so seductively
behind the curtain.

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