Wandering hither and thither
on the material plane
we’ve met again:
explorers of the darker realms,
where most souls crawl
but we can walk straight.
Following my sense of high adventure
I recognized us sitting around a cauldron
on an ancient astral plane,
without bodies
but more than ever us.
A cosmic chuckle welcomes me:
“Are you here, El Plompo?
Bring out the Laughing Gas, Simon,
for surely we will live tonight.”
Give me my kangling, my garland of skulls,
so we can exorcise spiritual boredom,
courting apsaras on nitrous oxide.
We bounce around the universe
surrounded by a host of mysteries.
Our feet wade
in so-called reality ―
our spirits always and everywhere
Here and Now.