Such Dirty Glass Windows


This is a final seance
A lusty embrace of pantorum
And Zen dojo.
We drink,
Meditating on the sun’s rays
And our second cup of sweet oolong tea.
Meditating on the sun’s rays
As the sun mediates its way
Through such dirty glass windows.
The sweet oolong tea
Tickles the underbelly of my tongue.
Fog clouds of incantations and incense
Drift towards such dirty glass windows
As the bitter ginseng tickles the back of my throat
I overlook our musty prayers to suspicious deities
Built of pragmatic optimism.
I stand next to the sky
Cup in hand
Tender oolong tea
Watching birds fly into such dirty glass windows
And I pour another cup of morning,
Burning the tender oolong tea leaves left behind
sifted through a shitty filter
A cosmic punchline
To my has-been Zen
The seeping mojo,
My dojo.

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