Ganesha

I broke the chain
which held my medal of 
my patron, Ganesha,
lord of learning, letters, 
success, of taking it all in —
I broke that chain.  

Now I’m lying here, turning blue;
I have worked hard to earn that hue.
I’ve become a fat
gap-toothed man like him.
I don’t need to carry myself
everywhere, and no one
would mistake me for him
but still, I took heed of concerns
for over-identifying with him,
and broke that chain.

When they find me, when they
rescue me, surrounded by books
and past due notices,
the last thing they’ll think of
as they trundle me off for repair
is Ganesha.  I’ve broken that chain

and if at the hospital they ask me
what spiritual path I follow, I will tell them
nothing at all.  If they can’t tell it by looking
at me (gap toothed, blue skinned, long nosed,
fat necked and full of useless books)
then it’s nothing they should know.  I broke that chain
anyway, like an elephant gone rogue.
They ought to do me like that,
and shoot me.