.

could u write me a circle
in a world of jagged edges;
not an ordinary circle
but one created with the single movement
of a calligrapher’s brush?

i’ve been navigating thru the mire
careful to avoid
the crags and pits of western culture
so i turned toward the east
and discovered Zen,

“the frog jumped in the water, plop!”

or

“sitting quietly do nothing
spring comes and the grass
grows by itself"

how do u beat minimalistic perfection?

while western poets fuss,
a monk effortlessly brushes
a perfect circle in one movement
tho this movement was preceded
by years of practice and training
to the end of capturing poetry’s prize,
perfect transmission/communication
of an instant

walking slowly
by the pond,
i drop a pebble into the water,
numerous perfect circles
emanate from my stone inscriber

frogs have disappeared
since the pond was drained
and the banks concreted