Out of the matrix
"No I don't have a gun . . ."+
(Something like Neo+ . . .)
. . . I'd found secrets they couldn't touch.
They hated it and couldn't touch me either,
because I'd soared far out of their control,
since way back in 1967, before four doors+ opened.
(Embedded among New Agers now,+ . . .)
. . . best they could do was call+
it "psychobabble,"+ 'cause they knew
I'd been found, by the Way,+ out of their world,
leaving them in putrefaction+, awaiting destruction . . .
. . . while one+ stood with me, awaiting paradise.
--early May & 6/12/08