Buddhist Monk

File:Lama in the Gandan Monastery in Ulan Bator, Mongolia, 1981.jpg

I look at picture of a Buddhist monk,

he’s my friend’s brother,

he kinda looks a Henry Miller or rather

the Dali Lama,

Kind strong face, strong kind face

it’s like that

I don’t know if he’s ugly or good looking

it don’t matter

I would like to talk to this man

see, before I saw this guy,  i was writing

at Starbucks, and these girls behind me

were so loud, and they were talking about

dull normal shit, about grades, boys, Tinder

and Facebook.

they couldn’t decide to go to Miami or Vegas

for vacation,  they were so well-adjusted

to a sick society

and that made me feel coldly ill

then I take a look at this guy on the picture

a man in pure form, un corrupted by most things

I think he comes pretty close to being at one with existence

or the universe of whatever you wanna call it

he stares at me strangely serenely  manly eyes

it embarrasses me for a moment and then

it makes me think about what kinda counts,

not the conversation at Starbucks

this man could care less about a trip to Vegas

 

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