At City Lights Book Store
 
Surrounded by history
Of which I wasn’t a part,
But which was a part of me.
 
I took vows of poverty in my mind,
Living in my parents’ house at age 15.
 
Released myself from them at age 21.
Living in my first apartment,
I thought I would go mad
Looking at the blank, monastic walls.
 
Gave up on the Beats
When I started doing TM
And got a more authentic idea
Of what Indian philosophy
Was talking about
and what
self-transcendence is.
 
Broken-hearted about Kerouac
On the Bill Buckley show,
Raving
about what “the Jews” had done to him,
while Ginsberg sat smiling and nodding.
 
But later, reading Ginsberg
berate America materialism – commercialism
As “Moloch-worship,”
I nodded warmly
For the first time in years.