A Firing Squad Poem by Margaret Alice Second

A spiritual master's words of upliftment
about love for self, inner sanctuary, true
love as goodwill towards all men, eternal
bliss; are not helping as I sit here with my
digestion disrupted, white as a sheet

Feeling overpowering fatigue - spiritual
education does not work for a sick body,
I am the most unevolved human being,
only one concept makes sense: life is
a degenerative disease - I cannot

withdraw into my inner citadel while my
body is in hell, my safe fortress against
a tempestuous world is going to pieces
in the heat, I am nauseous and wish I
were dead already - if I am a creator

As the wise guru says, then I am one of
the worst, creating subhuman conditions
in an overheated building and destroying
my life by ingesting germs in my stomach
- if I were really capable of creation

I would have created a firing squad to take
me out of this life, tackling the problem of
being my own companion for all eternity
as and when it arises; even without the
perfect love for self as recommended

I prefer rest in the grave to the pain in
my digestive system…