24.7.11

Poem: A Monk Reads at Table

image credit: The Metropolitan Museum of Art
at table reading,
our minds most likely a cacophony
of invective, misery, and lower back pain.

There is silence.  
Usually amid the drone of listless
hagiographies,
 put an asparagus spear in your
mouth 

the tables are urchin gray; the reader enjoys
whispering
for
eating in silence is all we can ever do
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