a touch of Buddha…

i hear nothin’…maybe an occasional car drivin’ out in the distance…a train wailin’ far away…few and far between sounds…real hollow outside as I walk from one end of town to the other…

past buildings where men used to earn pay with their hands…old saloons with busted windows and worn out neon…closed down massage parlors with names like Doll House and The Kingdom…

homes boarded-up…vagabonds sleepin’ off hangovers under sheets of newspaper and cardboard boxes…rats scurry from the scene…

and church after church after church on corners ‘cross town…good people goin’ to worship their gods while i pray to nothin’…it always comes back to nothin’…

just ask Meister Eckhart…we come from nothin’…waitin’ in this life to return to nothin’…men in factories…drunks in taverns…the whore in the street…nothin’…

and nothin’ is all there ever was…

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