I have decided
to try
Zen Lite
as an answer
to my Zen life,
and it involves
not going to
the temple,
and not doing
retreats,
and not being
vegetarian,
and only doing
five minutes
of meditation practice
a day,
so instead
of being
a Zen Marine
like a lot of people,
I will be
a light guy.

History remembers
certain artists,
who many of us
know about,
and it considers them
the Great Heroes
of art, poetry and music,
but I think
that the true heroes
are the artists
who painted every day
for their entire lives,
and created
great works,
and yet,
had no shows,
and didn't get
into the museums,
and whose great work
was thrown away
at the end of their lives,
so that nothing
is remembered of these artist's work
at all,
and all of their names
are forgotten,
and the true heroes
of poetry
are the poets
who wrote every day
for their entire lives,
and never got published
and never got a book out,
and whose poetry
was ditched in the dumpster
at the end of their lives,
forgotten,
and the true heroes of music
played and practiced and wrote
for their entire lives,
every day,
for nobody
and nothing of their work
remains,
so this night,
I payed homage
to these true heroes,
and felt better
about art,
poetry,
and music.

Haldol is a psychiatric drug
for mental illness
that I am on,
and when it is mixed
with Zen,
a peculiar thing happens
in that everything
that Zen says to do,
I do the inverse,
so if Zen tells me to not think,
I think twenty-four hours a day,
and if Zen tells me
to eat health food,
I eat bologna sandwiches,
and if Zen says "No alcohol!",
I drink beer,
and if Zen says "No smoking",
I smoke two and a half packs
a day,
and if Zen says that everything
is impermanent,
I think
that everything is permanent,
and if Zen says
to quieten the mind,
I listen to a thousand voices
inside,
and it makes me happy,
and so,
there was beat Zen,
where anything goes,
and there is straight Zen,
where nothing goes,
and then,
there is haldol Zen,
where we go
in a completely different direction,
so, the moral
of this story is
you must find
where you're at.

I debated
going for a walk,
tonight,
and finally decided
to do it,
so, at two o'clock
in the morning,
I went outside,
and it was cold.
The first thing
that struck me
as I walked out
of the door,
was a memory
or a group
of memories,
of being a fearless,
reckless, drunk
young person,
who was out
at this time
many times before,
and I even could seem
to smell his alcohol.
But, there was no guilt
or shame,
it was a sweet memory.
And I remembered,
the words
of a Zen master,
who said
that the past, present,
and future
are all here
in the present moment,
so I thought
of the future,
and my back straightened
a little,
and I warmed up
a little,
so I thought
maybe the future
will be better
than we think.

So, I woke up
this morning,
and was promptly attacked
by a Chinese martial artist
brain cell,
so I got angry
and decided
that I didn't like
my teachers,
and then
the insane Republican
brain cell,
began to shout,
"Get Busy!",
so I think
I've got
bad brain
chemistry.

Lately,
I have been
analyzing
the beer trip,
so it starts
with the thought
of having a beer,
and since
I am not one
to jump right in,
I think
before I drink,
and then
if I decide
to have one,
I get in the car
and drive to the store
and buy one
and bring it home,
and then
when I crack the can,
the beer wave starts,
and it starts
with the attack,
which is the actual drinking,
and after about five minutes,
I feel the wooziness,
which is the high,
so then the actual drinking
takes about fifteen minutes,
and then the sustain part
of the wave begins,
so for about fifteen more minutes
I feel great
and woozy and high and wonderful,
and then after that,
the decay part starts,
and for about a half an hour,
I feel pretty good,
but the woozy feeling
kind of changes
and the feeling
is not as good,
and then after that,
the release part
of the beer wave begins,
and lasts for about an hour,
and that's when
I get a headache,
and the wooziness
becomes sleepiness,
and I feel kind of ******,
so then after that hour
is over,
I'm back to my old self again,
but with a little residue
of beeriness left,
which will last
possibly
for about three days,
so that's
riding the one beer wave,
except that I did it
with understanding.

Right when
us glee clubbers
were about to go
on tour,
to someplace
like New York
or England
or someplace,
but I forget where,
I quit,
and the conductor
was furious about it,
and stopped me
on the stairs,
and told me
that I would never sing
in another choral group
again,
but the next semester,
I was singing away
in choral union.