My Uncarved block is scored with ruts

just like my 8 fold path,

My Dharma wheel has popped its nuts,

Its inner tube gone flat…

My Star of David wanes its wax,

and cross is in the shop…

My Yang and Yin completely black,

since Buddha Belly-flopped.

My rosary is thick with thorns!

and chalice full’a brine,

My Eucharist is stale, and pour—

fermented 2 buck wine…

 

©Karen Robiscoe