poster 1969
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Friday, December 09, 2011
Goodbye to the Outlaw Buddhist
Goodbye to the Outlaw Buddhist
some phones just ring and ring
today, there is no poet's hand
small and thick-skinned
fingertips pointed like arrowheads
no poet's voice answers
deeply dark rumbling a black velvet 'hello'
he and I won't be making arrangements to meet
to walk long
through cold miles of rain soaked city leaves
no drinking tea
in art and book and symbol and cumin and
smoke stuffed portland kitchens
no more ambiguous pushing toward and away from each other
no more battles of spiritual semantics or psychic swordfights
the rules and reasons of which I never understood
no more shining on each other
with our eyes
today, when I call you
there will be only ringing
only one word resounding
in the ringing
and the silence between the rings
the call will go like this:
riiing
riiiing
riiiing
goodbye
December 8, 2011
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