updated prayer wheel
recursively twitters
Om mani padme hum.

*******, *******, Where art thou *******?

to take nothing
to add nothing
to reflect all
to retire "to"

Riding a double decker 4B
from Trinity to Terrenure,
one hand clutching
an overhead strap,
St. Stephen's Green
Frames a Celtic redhead,
exciting priestly thoughts.

This may not be a poem,
more like a beef,
an irritation,
a shock and awe annoyance,
that too, too, too many poems
by keyed up scribblers,
package their custard mustard innards
with the same skill three year olds
wrap a present for their mothers,
fully expecting the same mom response,
"Honey, this is so lovely."
There is no disgrace
in learning by failing.
Fail, fail, fail,
But do it honestly.
Read five books of poems
before you write
one miserable haiku.

Ms. West,
Shall I call you Oesta?
Do you read Proust,
Or Jackelyn Susan,
better yet, Susan Sontag?
Home schooled?
Lived in another land?
Were I to say "Portnoy "
Would you fill in with "Complaint?"
"Madrigal" from me
would elicit "Trecento" from you?
How would silence feel
were we to meet in your room?

If I lived in Hawaii
I'd wear a glass skirt,
Panhandle tourists,
or lie on the beach
and get lai-ed by pretty girls.