





To me, that is much like asking whether I prefer a hammer or a Phillips head screwdriver. They are different tools for different purposes. Good luck if you love your ballpeen hammer so much that it’s the only tool for you but your problem of the moment is a deeply embedded wood screw.

Let the flood sweep
one away — out
of the shallows,
into the deeps.
Don’t ever cry;
Don’t ever weep;
Just feel the speed
Carry one on.

Rainy December day
blows in - not long to stay.
From season to season,
without any reason,
sometimes we feel the fray.



The chill is here.
The sky never
bluer.
The colors turn,
with leaves ever
fewer.
Until a last
hanger-on yields
to a weak breeze.
Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. (Chronologically, not in order of preference.)
Paper masala dosa for breakfast; Thai red curry for lunch; mixed fruit for dinner.

If babel fish existed or I could have access to a fluid translator, then perhaps Drukpa Kunley, (or, alternatively, Hanshan or Ikkyu,) because I would like to know how that level of freedom is achieved (and whether it’s all it’s cracked up to be.)
If I was on my own for language, maybe Thoreau or Whitman. (For largely the same reason.)
