. . . bondage
i don’t know
but i like the word invisibly
surrounded by inexplicable tyranny
the word i am fully persuaded is so in love
with me it takes away my sinful desert ass
with stained glass dildos
makes me bend down and lies in my face
(coyotes howling at another c-one thirty midnight test flight
have once again desecrated my most holy meditation)
your only peace and no pie man
(howled at eight ten to twenty five past overtime)
a hundred thousand howls from
the highest eye queues this planet’s seen
prophets and poets and bands of professional
eccentrics grinning at the rest of us
behind bud stained beards
and buddhas and
one of the buddhas here in the zendo must go
right now essentially
exit
the departed
beatific italian buddha
catholic antichrist impish criminal cherub
a bargain for only ten ninety five at ross
six buddhas weighed in
all unbalanced in the twinkling of an eye
one found wanting at birth
caught up in manic devotion
the italian was sinful
post gild
(we are peter)
yesterday a similar revelation:
wood buddha is missing the very end
of his flipping finger
and his ultraviolent block pedestal inconsistent
with the skin tight designer robe
the painted silk genital sash
ersatz buddha, his right hand disguised as a blessing
he’s brutally out of proportion
no art here only capitalist famine kids
his enormous nazi feet are carved out of course to
step to siegesmarsch der erwachten nation
his vertical palm pushes away anyway
i will hide and go seek
the twin of fools gold buddha announcing
samsara lotus buddha
his right hand man
(almost looks gilded
clutches plantlife or a silk handkerchief)
on ebay and maybe
new gilt coats and some black and gibson sunburst paint
with fondant hands and
these three buddhas will be one
and you will be one
surrounded by howling buddhas and peter
on this church we build god
(your only peace be with you)
more buddhas wait to help you howl into the night ocean
when the crimson curtain is rent
behind the bamboo screen
from chinatown still in their plastic shopping bags
huge hollow head buddhas
with no place even in my ersatz zendo and
others outside may someday awake
in a relative's mock hawaiian zen hammock garden
if he wants them
(a golf cart ride of the mind from the south pacific)
and still there are more untouched and bound
wood buddha is cia and won’t be converted
black buddha ten thousand nations united
a matt one with salvadorian copper robe endowed
and gentle buddha meek and
made in china high, aloof
blesses the unborn three in one buddha and all are
surrounded by candles flickering in the mighty rushing wind
of the spray painted altar before this howl
which is still me stuck inside my non-existent soul
December 2007
Lancaster California
Copyright © 2012 J A Lee
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