Zen poetry and prose from dogo
dissatisfaction
Developing a Sense of Similarity
Several years ago, when I was eating lunch alone in the dining area of a university food court, a smiling student recruiter from a major international religious organization asked whether he could speak with me for a moment. I obliged, and he sat down in the chair directly across from me at my table. After […]
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.
Like Raindrops
I am not a Buddhist (neither was he) I am a followerof the neonlight of liberation Free of being rightI strive to see how my poetry can hold many truths, all of them sentenced todeath