the Dharma is... [and] when a beer costs a dollar...
the Dharma is...
~
more than 2000 yrs. of yesterdays
ago
a son of nameless immigrants, a native
of Asia, weighed the likelihoods of grief & adversity
to those of grace & good fortune, and with
godlike perspective and feral strength
he gave a title to that circumstance
and that title was
the Dharma.
the stubbornness of death through energy
the fugitive, benevolent yearning for balance
and altruism -- all the marks and requirements
of & for our fragile victories
until there are none to be counted: the
name of something present but unnamable.
the Dharma exercises itself without permission
or encouragement or really any deeper logic
than the obvious & necessary
role of entropy disintegrating what
cannot be held... if she is welcoming as
a female, indeed, she is confident
as a man likely to implore a million questions
with insuppressible demand for response.
the Dharma covets and captures
whatever lame, neglected thing you might imagine.
even cheerfully verbose drunks lose their pens
and lighters and miscount money or
say hello to old books or find sacks of cans
they weren't looking for, slightly
cut-up toes, not really, the funny multi-
verse skip of intentional movement
(only) briefly sabotaging
your silly drunk love and
discerning the looks of the appreciative
from the looks of
the lecherous and woefully annoying
incorrigible
fucked.
however, the Dharma is
not
invulnerable to memory.
whatever influences form
has the advantage of itself.
all gods who say so might be.
as far as I'm concerned, at this moment,
another 2000 yrs. should pass yet and that feral
inclination will remain.
****
when a beer costs a dollar...
~
when a beer costs a dollar, has
the quick approval of your limbic/cortical
network
you might figure that's about 20
cans, how far is twenty cans? maybe
in one or two places --
maybe not in seven. but the goal is to
delay drinking, remember.
I don't really mean to be a greedy person
despite doing a ton of things associated
with greedy people--ho ho--but there's
a fleeting sense of status and wealth and
easy dirty luck,
something difficult to express but effortless
to identify
if it's happened to you, personally.
they say being a drug-addict is the hardest job
in the world but...I get to drink at
my job, if nothing else. (the
pay is lousy, sometimes, and you're never
positive
if the store is open.)
but there is grace to be found
in the world that is more porous and
generous than the deepest wail of your heart
can imagine.
like inferring the rare, often dismissive
slips of wisdom
in the greater film noire to be found:
you kind of discover a more inexpensive 'you'.
you move your own hand again just so.
after that, the cashier gets it, and
you start looking for
more.
****
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