The devotee of Kali is doomed,
for the object of his devotion is mad,
and a son takes after his Mother.

My Mother exists in every being,
from lowly virus to man.
Priest and nun, pimp and hooker,
and also the drive-by shooter.

Why is he so different from me?
We are both men with God in our hearts
and a Mother to pull our strings.

A Mother not the least bit sane.
Would She be if She causes all
those things that I see on TV?

But She also causes me,
and sustains me.
She is the Essence of all that I see.

Therefore I have concluded that my
madness cannot be prevented.
But it doesn't have to be a curse,
if my Mother would grant my request.

If I am going to become crazy
let it be in love with Kali,
like that Mad Brahmin at Dakshineswar.

His madness rivaled even my Mother's,
for he was Her favorite son,
and their lila was Heaven on earth.

If I could know one millionth as much,
I would be deliriously happy,
and this madness will be my salvation.