Sunday, February 21, 2021

tired monk tired

I know I should rise
(no grave can hold me down)
fight this (epithet) malaise
but this one is heavy
like wet monk's robe
soaked with lake water

too much 
fighting and fleeing 
wearing me out
past tired monk tired

Friday, February 19, 2021


brewing tea
morning coffee for the abbess
hoppy my daydreams

a pull
of whiskey, whisky, 
or Kentucky Bourbon from 1773

a last meditative puff
another pull
of a Benson and Hedges

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

J.E.D. March-19-1927 - January-30-2021

funny how it ends
...what's a better word for funny?
absurd (sorry for the language, 
but more like completely fucking absurd)

no soft "peaceful" slipping to the next world
or slow dimming of consciousness
more like hurtling
a head first hustle, just out, and gone

that's it
bit of blood on the floor
a grocery list
a new wheelchair
an old walker

no fine Irish wake
just a hollow Zoom funeral


my brother left
oh I remember that one
my mother left (so to speak)
at the same time
my dad?
gone to...long gone
left before I was even born, 
           and I was premature. that's why 
I won't leave
I'm an oversized anchor
an immovable object - pure inertia
a monk rooted down deep 
right through the temple floor