Thursday, February 27, 2014

five imajins

driftwood flowers blossom
in a sea of buddha nature—
on the beach, natives search
for grains of sand…

in the desert
there's this single candle—
all around is nothing
but creosote and sage—
it is burning incessantly
but it burns without a flame

there's a house that sits on a bluff
above the sea—
its windows look out upon
a precipice of sky—
when its doors fly open
no one is at home

out of nowhere came
the mountain—
it fills the sky with a vacancy
of rock and clarity—
even the undertaker laughs
at such transparent

coyote is crossing
the interstate—
it’s headed for the other side
below sky city—
an attentive focus narrowly avoids
a black infiniti

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