apprentice
hey, mister unquiet kid!
How come shoes grow on trees?
How come freshly white shirt
and solid trousers grew pastels over the night.
Now monks trouble naked feet
into the smile of autumn's just polished teeth.
Could a potatoes mound get sorted by surprise
And the retreat floor regain its proud face?
***
I build my Moving Pagoda on a solid foundation
of appropriated currents, its pillars are water.
I lay the second floor apprehending the vast
stretch of past that's not yet attached.
I tile the third roof with waterproof tension
so that I can bathe in heavenly bodies.
Relaxed water slinks in through tiled opals
on uncountable legs of a snake.
---
Some imagery from Oseam.
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