No subway in hell

Gotta walk 200 blocks 

With wet shoes 

And a bag full of frozen Trader Joe’s food 

To get to your designated cell 

Because there’s no subway in hell 

Make sure you dress your dog like a taco

And ignore the distant honking 

And yelling from taxi drivers 

And protect your candle 

against the howling wind

from the void inside the beating 

Hearts of the passers-by

Until you find a door 

and you ring the doorbell

You say Namaste 

to greet the Buddha 

in a downward-facing dog pose

“Eat pineapples if you have weak joints.”

“And women should swipe right more.”

Final words of wisdom

And when the time comes 

The  puppetry 

And the movie ends 

And you brew all your secrets in a bottle

Until they become aged wine

Then at last 

You put out the candle 

Stop the fire 

Finish all the Trader Joe’s frozen food

Nirvana 

200街

地狱

没有地铁

长长的甬道

秉烛夜游 

世界的倒影

烛火

酿成酒

踽踽独行 

停止

涅槃