by R.L. Black
I went to see The Guru who lived in a hut made of bamboo with a roof-top garden and curtains the color of the sea. His only possessions were a mattress on the floor and an empty bird cage. He wore crisp white clothes and sat cross-legged and I begged him to tell me the secrets of the Universe. Surely he must know. He opened his mouth. I waited for lofty oracles of love and peace, and The Guru spewed dove feathers and daffodil petals. Gibberish, if you ask me.