Friday, April 8, 2016

Alone and Drinking Under a New Moon

Lately a week feels like seven days.
And April has a tendency to freeze frame.
So I wouldn't say this is enlightenment
but I've deconstructed so much bullshit
I can see it in another almost instantly.
This makes it difficult for new relationships
and all the old ones have gone South
to die or be with loving grandchildren.
I like the Chinese poets and their way with wine.
I choose a stout instead seeking moderation
only because I value benefits of deep sleep.
This is where the poem will take a turn.
The absolute unknown is what I am
and every night I like to circle back
to pure awareness, black as Tao,
completely lost to memory or moon.
This is why Li Po jumped in the pond.

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