Looking for water

The afternoon sun catches the bobcat full in the face where he rests under a boulder near the top of the talus slope, waiting for night. It wakes him from a pleasant dream of raiding a mouse’s nest and crunching down an endless supply of succulent squirming hairless mouse babies. He blinks, and tries shifting …

My Zen

Never mind Fuketsu’s Zen. If you want to express the truth, throw out your words, throw out your silence, and tell me about your own Zen. – Mumonkan My Zen is a joke. * My Zen walks like a duck and quacks like a duck. * My Zen does not pass Go. * My Zen …

Restoring the words

This entry is part 30 of 42 in the series Antiphony: Paul Zweig

I’m reading Paul Zweig. This is the twelfth poem in the third (“Eternity’s Woods”) section of his Selected and Last Poems, followed by my response. See here for details on this experiment in responsive reading. One Summer Before Man by Paul Zweig Listen! The undergarments of the women Are rustling OM. It is the Sanskrit …