Koan Curriculum
(Backing into the Zen Journal after long silence.)
The aisles of this supermarket are stacked with
10,000 things that make no sense.
Hair dye for the heart.
A scrub brush for music.
Spices to sprinkle over street corners
and small children.
A toilet plunger made of stone.
I read the label for each
before I go on to the next
and the cashier is so very far away,
my cart so full.
The express lane is closed,
says the stock boy, kneeling,
but you don’t have to worry.
Your money’s no good here.
-- 6/4/24
