Tea

In the beginning was the word 

St John, the Divine

In the beginning was the word(play
st) john, the not so Divine

 

A certain novice asked his teacher

how to become enlightened.

The teacher suggested

they have some tea.

The teacher did not stop pouring.

The pupil soon saw the light:

He had to become empty,

transmuted to be able to receive

something new.

The teacher said, “That’s it.”

But there’s more.

.

The T)ea)cher then said, “En(lighten up.”

The no)vice took the right angle

between the lines and purely replied ,

“It fits me to a T.”

Afraid to choose.

Afraid to(o) lo(o)se.

We all know the sound

of one hand clapping–

a big wave,

no)thing

is so tragic

as a poet who lacks

whimsy.

My patient with an IQ of 30 or less,

drinks her tea saying

to everything

that passes her notice,

“That’s it.”

“That’s it.”

Tough

between sense and non-sense.

At cross purposes,

I never metaphor or five or six

I didn’t like.

I’m a many headed hydra,

fecund to the core.

Cut off one,

there’s more

to choose

between A) richness and complexity

That’s it

or B) simplicity and unity.

That’s it.

That’s contradictory.

That’s i(T.