Zen in the Quaker Sunday School

I ZAZEN

When I first floundered in

no one knew me

not even myself

staggering under a Saratoga trunk

crammed with humiliations

bottled like urine samples

nailkegs of anger

carbons of abusive letters

chemistry quizzes with F’s

even the horse I never had

and two casseroles left over

from the dime-a-dip supper.

No one remarked that

I had brought too much.

I was wearing 3 fur hats

donated by opulent cousins

my feet encased in cement

ever since the failure

of the patio project

and my mouth full of barbs

as an old trout.

No one praised my appearance.

The trunk fell off my back

disgorging its unusual contents

at my stone feet

which also came off.

The fur hats tumbled like a

motheaten avalanche

burying a small monk.

No one noticed.

My sweat began to dry

I folded myself into one piece

NO ONE …

II SANZEN

In a midden

Of plastic cars and dollcrap

The Roshi sits like the Sierras.

He questions, “Koan?”

I emit the miasmas of my culture.

The Roshi clears the air with his fan.

He extends branches.

His eyebrows perch there.

He shakes his bell.

Backing out

I fall into the toybox.