ForkWord




Poems by Inchiki



 


firefly



little pyre in the air
flying around the marijuana grove
I like to catch you - but there!
it is only a mote in my eye!

my hands buzz
with insects as I cage them
in a lair of fingers
sawdust words grind
in the gaps between teeth
tongue puckers making
the probability of foolish sayings
so inevitable

Linji - !
slap me down

when host and guest
are the same
all the scriptures
burst into flame

whisk me
into foam

there - that spark
I drown
chasing it down

go to breathe -
my feet in my mouth!

one monk is always
on the way

another is always
in the way

which is the reflection of the other?

" aged rustics sing songs
the rule of the sovereign
pervades the land"

these leisures
cannot last forever
but time
lasts nearly as long
as the aftertaste






Mind Spool  2014