Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Blame the Buddha. Mock the Buddha. Refuse to Serve the Buddha His Latte.

(Go outside of your dwelling and address the first sparrow you see.)

I give you
these parking lots
of clouds

where chicory
forgets
your name

over and over.

Fuck off,
buddy!

We don't
serve

your kind

here.

2 comments:

Ross Brighton said...

I (heart) sparrows. they look schizophrenic, like they don't know what to pay attention to so pay attention to everything with jerky head movements - like I do after too much coffee

William Keckler said...

Hehe!

They are.

I love W.C.W's sparrow poem for his father.

That one always "gets" me.