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80 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1989
this ink painting of wind blowing through pines
who hears it?
clouds very high look
not one word helped them get up there
I didn’t see one thing on my trip
but I breathed and whatever I breathed was time
I hate it I know it’s nothing but
I suck out the world’s sweet juicy plum
where you are whatever you do hearing a stalk struck
remember bamboo remembers nothing
flowers are silent
silence is silent
the mind is a silent flower
the silent flower of the world opens
Lin-chi’s followers don’t know Zen I the Blind Donkey do
my tongue and gentle fingers thick hard cock
one autumn night’s a thousand centuries
I like my anger my grouchy furious love
amazing how we say such nice things about the dead
rain drips from the roof lip / loneliness sounds like that
if there’s nowhere to rest at the end / how can I get lost on the way?
I didn’t see one thing on my trip / but I breathed and whatever I breathed was time
Ikkyū this body isn’t yours I say to myself / wherever I am I’m there
October wind crosses the world / in this field moist grass bends to itself and to the sea
one white blossom snow / razor-edged mountains slice my belly
we live in a cage of light an incredible cage / animals animals without end
inside the koan clear mind / gashes the great darkness
the wise know nothing at all / well maybe one song
watching my four-year-old daughter dance / I can’t break free of her
nobody knows I’m a storm I’m / dawn on the mountain twilight on the town
With a mind like hers
I live on every word, hanging on every glance
Then she goes, and nothing remains
The familiar mountain, the empty house.