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high tea

atop a Tibetan mountain

peaking through

a perfect cloud

 

i will take high tea

with the dalai lama

 

the platters

pots

and cups

brought to us

upon the backs

of meticulously trained

boston terriers

billy goats

and bull frogs

who

when  given honey

wag away happily

 

his holiness will tell me a bad joke

as he pours

“Why is the Christian heaven paved with gold, but covered in newspaper?

Angel poop.”

 

to which i counter

 

“How do you make the universe laugh?

Tell it your plans…”

 

we giggle into our tea cups

 

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