artificial trees, robot sofas, Ignorant cars- One Way Street to Heaven - Allen Ginsberg

Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build: wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image — shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.

How strange to remember anything, even a button
much less a universe.

‘What creature gives birth to itself?’

The universe is mad, slightly mad.

Trees scream and drop bright leaves