As a film and literature enthusiast, I am always on the look out for stories that evoke the Dharma. Today, I have a gander at the poem “Happy as a Dog’s Tail” by Polish Poet Anna Świrszczyńska (aka Anna Swir). Happy as a Dog’s Tail, by Anna Swir Happy as something unimportantand free as a […]
Author: Teahouse
Another Letter to the Editor
I think I know whyI like this piece. It’s what I strive forin everything I do. It disrupts everyone. From Generation Z to the Greatest Generation, this one has something to unnerve and destabilizeeveryone’s moral justice. No quarter. Almost no socialor political allegiance. Just one man’s interpretation based on experience. There is a certain purity in that which makes […]
Holy of Hollies
It is written that the almondsprung from thegenitals of theNear Eastern Goddess Cybele. And I thought that Iwas just eating nuts. They say that woman’sessence is in apricots and scallops, and floatslike the lotus and lily. But like some *sshole, I thought you were a ringto wear, some black stoneto venerate. I consecratethe stone and tried to wear it,like an amulet, makingyou […]
Not Even His Mother
No one could breathe for him.Hauled onto the curb as if he were dead already. Heavy as a bag of sand at a construction site. Still human, sucking the steel-tipped teeth of men. Gathered around his neck. They say that you had enemies.Perhaps he was one of them.They say you had a background. Maybe that is why your mother’s […]
My Turn
When it was my turn to go in,I sat cross-legged by the ventilator and told my buddy goodbye.I could have cried but he deserved more. He deserved what carries no weight.Time. Before the lungs fill with river water and the dream oozes away from the ribs of lotus petals caught between the rocks.
The Last Days of Summer
God is the original face before I was born. The lost part of my brain, drifting across beginninglesslifetimes, bobbing in the embryonic fluid. God is tortoise tracks and prayers bya beachside grave and the last daysof summer. Why the universe is so hot,crowded, and noisy, yet arrives quietly each lonely evening, on my doorstep, a bouquet of suffocating […]
Letter to an Editor
I think I know why I like this piece so much. It’s what I strive for in everything I do. It disrupts everyone. From Generation Z to those still living from the Greatest Generation, this one has something to unnerve and destabilize everyone’s sense of moral justice. No quarter. Almost no social or political allegiance whatsoever. […]
My Turn
When it was my turnto go in I sat cross-leggedby the ventilator and told my buddygoodbye. I could have cried but he deserved more than that. He deservedwhat carries no weight. Time. Before the lungs fill with river water, and the dream oozes away from fingers like the texture of drowning lotus petals no longercaught between the rocks.
Everything Is Invented
with words, including the age of rocksand trees and picked strawberries andparticles of sand, all those ideas falling apart between the lips and fingers and toes.
How To Fall Out of Love
If we are lucky, it is like an ant on thesidewalks of Times Square. This memory. This oval shaped, solid, durable, now fixed, singular, squishy, ripping sounding, earthy tasting, leathery,months-long, crimson-colored, knuckle sized thing.