XII
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This article reprinted from John T. Unger's Art Heroes. The original article can be found online:
https://www.igotnozen.com/2005/12/xii.html
© 2010, John T Unger
I managed to borrow a pot to piss in & a window
to throw it out of, but I still cdn't cover my ass.
In the Jordan river valley I came to rest,
carried by the current, to lie upon the delta.
Tired Zen hermit, holed up in the goatpen,
happy in the tin-roof shack rain-clatter of it all.
The way here is quiet, subtler than the Ghetto,
out making echoes in the twilight.
The calm before the storm is fragile,
easily broken by birdsong.
Synchronicity ran rampant in the early days
Dreams steeped in meaning, minor acts of prophesy
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