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LOWER FLAT, BUFFALO
It was a small house, that muchI still remember clearly, not wide,what some called a railroad flat,but ours had two floors, as if tworailroad cars had been stackedone on top of the other. We, luckily, had the bottom, orat least that’s what my father said,and his varicose veined legs applaudedhis selection of our new home.…
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TOO LATE
Do those, whoimagine themselves leaders,or smarter and betterthan the rest of us, andwho deny science, (no,the amassing of moneyis not a law of physics)plan to take up swimming? Or will they waituntil the bears areat their door, theirwhite coats grayedby the lastbelches of soggycoal, and then bemoanthe fact thattheir yachts havefloated off onthe rising seasthat…
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KEGON RETURNS TO DELUSIONS 鐵笛倒吹 語十二
If a gentle flowerfalls from its branch,do you mourn its departure?The fool attemptsto place it back in the tree,the wise one waitsfor another flower to appear. Each is the same flowerbut how will the foolbecome wise? A reflection on case 52 of the Iron Flute Koans
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ME ME
Coming soon perhapsbut hard to saychoose carefully a moment whenmeme andavatarmerge and youcease to exist or exist twiceand whichyou isreal is leftto others but that youis immortalnow unlessbeset bya magneticcatastrophe, butyou’ll likelybe ashes andshould notgive a damn.
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ON THE WALL
Each morning, once I have completedthe often unpleasant task of draggingmyself from the womb of blankets, I makemy appearance in front of the mirror. I stare closely into it, and am unsurprisedto find it returning my stare,and on every occasion, I noticethat the mirror has once againchosen to wear the same clothes as I,albeit not…
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RETIREMENT
He would arrive as I was still strugglingto convince the dog that he didn’t needto drag me around the neighborhood,that he knew the backyard well enough. I’d lose the argument in the end, thatwas a given, but he’d concede meenough time to wolf down breakfast,and I’d hear the small door in the wallopen and then…
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A LOST PEN
I wrote a poem for my father,about how one afternoonthe oddly green ’57 Caddyappeared in the drivewayand he polished its chrome for hours,even waxed the black bumper bullets.It was the love of his lifehe said, except for his wife,he added after a moment.The years would provethat addition was most likely false.I could send him the…
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SKYWARD
It was a Thursday in August when he first noticed it. It was an unusually cool day, not the sort you’d expect in the middle of summer, but he knew the weather was ever more unpredictable. He was certain it hadn’t been there the day before, but he was surprised it was still there the…
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INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY
It is easier to think about deathon a wintery evening, when so muchof life slips into stasis, and there isnothing to do but concede your mortality,and with good fortune, then slipinto sleep before being lostin a sea of depression. I must be thankful for my dreamsfor they keep the night from becomingthe little death of…
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SEPPO SEES HIS NATURE 鐵笛倒吹 三十四
Do not imagine yourselfShravaka or Boddhisatvanor ask the Masterif his reflection isthe fullest moon or bright sun. Both stick and slapawaken youand clear your sight. The Master’s eyesare blind to youand your reflectioncan only be seenby looking within. A reflection on case 34 of the Iron Flute Koans.
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an old writer and his words 