The Buddha is tired

of expectations, of the million and one ways
in which the bread might not rise, the cup

might not run over, the tire might go flat,
the light bulb go out. She is tired of the times
intention is thwarted, detoured, outright taken

over by some other outcome less ideal than what
was originally desired. The Buddha is tired
of going last, eating the crust, saving

the ribbons and the wrapping paper, reheating
the scraps; being the open door, the one they come to,
the shoulder to cry on, the purse that both makes do

and makes it right. She wants to be the one not
singled out by The Boss for turning her Out of Office
message on, while others go away without so much as a by-

your-leave. Who wrote the rules about selflessness and virtue,
about retribution in coin or in kind? All everyone wants
every now and then is to be seen for what they really are.


In response to Via Negativa: No trespassing.

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