Overheard in a coffee-shop

"So, can I give you a check?"

"Sure."

"I'm placing an order today."

"How much you gonna get?"

"Probably an entire case."

"Split it with me?"

"Sure."

"Kind of worried about the Feds turning up at my door."

"Why?"

"All those Republicans..."

"Oh man, you're just paranoid."

"No, man. They've got serial numbers on all bullets now."

"Oh fuck you, they do not."

"They could."

'Man, you worry too much. Nothing we're doing is illegal.

"Yeah, but those republicans are weird."

Well, sure, but shit man. No worries."

"How many rounds do I get if we split a case?"

"I don't know...500, a thousand."

"Cool. Wish I had someone to go shootin' with."

"Take your girlfriend."

"She's against guns."

"Take her anyway. She'll see shootin' is fun."

"That's what I tell her."

"I take mine shootin' all the time. She loves it."

"Wow. Maybe I could go with you guys...."

"Well, it's kind of a private thing..You know, just me and my girl."

"Oh, yeah man. I get it."

Heat

The heat today is as solid as a wall, and walking outside I'm struck by the weight of the air. It oppresses any quickness, and what breeze there is barely moves the foliage. The sizzle of cicadas fills my ears like the sound of heavy meat frying in a pan. I slump into a chair beneath the shade of an umbrella, an unread pile of books on the table before me.

Sweat pours into my eyes, and my Southern born and raised wife tells me I must be more still; the only movement is my fingers across the keyboard of my laptop. Time has stopped. It will always be this warm, this humid. I wish my skin off of my bones. The futility of a sigh escapes me.

Effortless Effort

For several years a statue of Buddha on the grounds of the Minnesota Zen Meditation Center has inspired me. When I first noticed him he was already showing signs of wear, his surface crumbled by year-round exposure to the elements. I admired the perseverance even as the figure chipped and flaked and appeared to dissolve into the ground.

Years have passed and this statue is much the worse for wear. Halved in height, his legs reduced to rubble and the rubble swept away he now leans against a tree for support. Yet for all of the statue's infirmaries his serenity is constant.

A Monk Told Me

Zen practice

left a hole in my heart

that I try to keep empty.

Insight

I sit at the table reading a book of Harrison's poems. The air-conditioning switches on and begins to hum and whirl. It is on because my son is home for a visit, and his blood runs hot. He lives now in Montreal where it is typically cooler, a balm to his internal heat. The people there speak French, lips pursed as if blowing on invisible bowls of soup.

I think I finally understand poetry.

Conversation With a Stranger in a Coffee Shop

Where were you stationed?

I wasn’t so much stationed as sent, the names of places secondary to the mission. Hell, they wouldn’t even tell us what country we were in. Central America, I gathered. We crossed some borders in support of an objective, blasting the hostiles sometimes. Other times having to pussy-foot ‘round some rag-tag cluster of rebels when we coulda as easily taken them out. Three years of that shit and I got out. Hard to find a job, though, when the only skill I had was shooting people.

Yardwork

Autumn leaves are swept away with a broom of tears.

Now, the ground is ripe for forgetfulness.