At This Hour

 

 

At this hour I think of all the Buddhist Thangkas

in all the gas stations in this small American city

when at night after twilight

all the stars in the sky are peering down

looking into all the windows of all the gas stations

and try to find one.

Now stand and thank the gas attendant

while you enter the jingly jangly & ugly door

and search for the chewing gum that has the protection

against demons and other monsters Thangka

on its tiny cover

especially robber’s , car jackers and murderers.

Opening the door & reaching for my drink

the cold air whooshes past my face & I

think of the Buddha in his Park sitting on the ground

who fought demons and Maya sitting very still

while my gas station doesn’t even have gum.

Now I wander past my cemetery tomb stone

almost midnight and there is a foggy mist hovering

and I find my spot and sit there very still to wait.

I saw the seated Being hearing one palm touching

the earth & one palm up fingers curled warding off – what?

The night I had lost everything was opening its eyelids to welcome

the drumbeat of the horizon

& find me wrapped in the soil

in the frozen forever posture of a wall painting.