gatherings of poets see so I guess we should get started this is the night where you've been invited to bring a poem of your own desire and originality and we hope we can include these in as I said the chapbook which will come up in a week or two. So without further ado I think I'll start it okay so I read a

[01:13]

book recently and this line appeared in the book it's a book on epistemology and the statement it's kind of epigraph for the poem is anything not experienced as something is not experienced at all anything not experienced as something is not experienced at all that's by Dale Wright professor so this poem is called as A.S.S. I stare in the mirror on the bathroom wall and see there an old guy hairless with jowls and all staring gray-eyed back at me with a rather fierce glare as though he is some stranger which is kind of weird when you consider that we've passed these last 26,000 days and nights together that's

[02:15]

two six zero zero zero days and nights in each other's company so I say to him to my reflection and out loud too because there's no one nearby to hear I say as Rumi might have well tell me friend tell me nothing I've done has ever really lost or won or has ever been saved or salvaged but simply given as in given up or given in and spoken in words left hanging in the air as if to draw out hungry sparrows from their nests or words to that effect and he arches a brow as if to say why heck yes pal you mean all those long lost places the far gone spaces and love-begotten faces all that good old stuff once too green to burden now now all changed and turned as if from cash to ashes and sure enough I see that laugh in his eye that warns me that what this is is narcissus dreaming

[03:21]

up some once upon a time somebody daddy who sat so tall between the stick and the wall that you just knew he'd have to freefall or end up as a Humpty Dumpty and staring at this mole on his jaw that is my very own I make up jokes about how we're rounding third base and puffing for home to make the final score using such expressions as a thus and so not to mention more the likes of oh boy oh man oh gosh oh golly and of course goddamn or as a visa or a data such fascinating data as appear in pairs like you know when lose pink pick choose lost found guest whole host or poetically as a sit-down clown or a three-thumbed pinch pinch hitter in the game of our darkest most intimate jitters maybe best to just drop it friend I say let it go and leave it for a rainy day bid each other

[04:23]

fare thee well adieu hi ho silver away for I have no hesitation saying we're not a mere conventional designation let's go now to turn another page on which is written the inscrutable inscription of our times and age leave the mirror empty again on the bed bathroom wall and smile friend smile for next time around we'll come back here again and stare each other down with eyes past weeping and too dry for a seeping sentiment over 26,000 days and nights relented all right I'm done who's next you have to come up and we can pass this around so you can stand at your

[05:31]

maybe I'll maybe I'll stand up in front yeah yeah yeah yeah you sit down all right so for some reason I felt like I should follow you because I wrote this opera or actually no no it's it's an opera buffa so Doris tells me so I need some audience participation at one part and I think I'll just divide halfway down the middle so like between Claire and prudence between Todd and Cedar and all the way straight down and you're that side yeah Max is not so and so if I point this direction I kind of mean this side I point this direction I mean that

[06:39]

side and you'll just repeat or kind of pick up what I'm singing and so it'll be pretty easy there's only there's only one part and then just do that when I point and then and then and then at some point I'll signal to kind of fade down and then so the volume should fade down to nothing at that point and yeah just kind of follow like as if my hands were volume knobs and then somebody slapped me if I say I am God too many times okay so so it's a so this is called the harmony of difference in totalitarianism an opera buffa in three

[07:45]

parts okay ask Doris later let's talk about ease let's talk about ease ah ease ah ease let's talk about ease ah ease just continue that ah let's talk about

[09:18]

thus with each and everything depending on these roots the leaves spread forth trunk and branches share the essence revered in common each has its speech in the light there's darkness but don't see it as darkness in the dark there's light but don't see it as light light and dark oppose one another like the front and back foot and walking each of the myriad things has its merit expressed according to function in place phenomena exist box and lid fit principle responds arrow points meet hearing the words understand the meaning don't set up standards of your own if you don't understand this play right before you looks like trouble so this stems from an early morning conversation I had with

[11:56]

somebody the other early morning and it's going back to the two green to burn theme at least it's mentioned and it's called I forgot what it's called actually let's just call it flame to green to burn no not me a bonfire blazing 16-foot flames visible from anywhere on the beach come on up and warm yourselves gather round dance and sing and if you get too close to to green clean up your act and sit right down sit right down and sit right down and watch the flames consume this night or this morning on this day just like any other day you wake up and you sit right down just to sit right down next to the fire but it's fading to green to burn yes that's me squeeze and [...] squeeze myself through the

[13:23]

ringer and finally a dry mop takes a break from cleaning up the world I'm going to read something I wrote before we had the class but I'm going to give Daigon things I wrote in the class to go in the chapter but I like this better so I'm reading this this was for Jesse on his Jukai in a starless sky to see the stars in this winter to smell the spring that or this in firewood just firewood in ash just ash or both or neither not different not the same we give up stories for this we are creatures of story to startle these crows up off their compost piles and not think of Van Gogh in the dance of

[14:27]

wing light and frost melting off pine boughs and winter grass not to ask if only madness sees what Van Gogh saw no thought before the thought after the thought no thought no thought in the thought now what and then I told Jesse in the computer room this other poem that I accidentally wrote so I'm going to just close with this very short I wrote it on the tank and pad the other morning and it goes after Dokestan conference prep okay I can stand it um so this is about one of those moments you know you have those moments and they don't come back so there's no title here practice giving

[15:32]

he said so I did unsuspecting and sought object in mind arise together cease together me and everything moment by moment giving each other into being no self just together I just want to replace the battery how about that now it's good okay okay no modifiers her guests have left as the

[16:37]

light fades she goes outside and clips a vase full of roses I have two short ones this one was written when we had class in the yurt listening to the mellifluous emissions from Digon's mouth entranced by the fire in the wood-burning stove the backside of the fire in the sky that drives all of this from the dead tree combusting over there to the scavenged dead blood being formed into excrement in here so much happening right now right now a crisp autumn

[17:56]

day on the grade school playground selecting teams for a football game all the white boys to one team all the black boys to the other save a lone white boy who chooses the team with most of his friends on it thereby disrupting the color-coded arrangement he's a nigger inside anyway says one of the white boys and they begin to play this is called emanations dusk falls residually sticky with its indifference the fountain in the cloistered yard tepid still would reflect the nearly full moon but for my casually dipped hand

[19:00]

churning water still the broken shards of light gives strange comfort like a near-barren tree lined road in late autumn the unfailing tolling of the hour on unseen church bells or the eroded sustained Saints inhabiting a centuries-old facade the bead of blood growing on a pricked thumb or the ultimate flicker of a candle when the wax finally runs out relishing the subtlety of a last unbroken thread I raise my cupped palms and drink don't be shy so I have a couple short ones two years of hell and he's back in my arms

[20:28]

well this one's also about Daniel too green to burn eyes bright heartwarming this doves gonna fly and number three sucking my thumb soothe my pain remembering my mother far behind Alyssa is the old me trembling in front of rims and dashboards stuck firmly in patterns of abuse never ever questioning plunging my path planning my path to avert confrontation open your eyes a new me has begun not interested in deceased teachers of Zen Samadhi or levels of Buddhahood poetry resuscitates me and the last one is we have to save one another please don't be afraid of beauty

[22:02]

okay I'm going to read from something that kind of feels to me very custom-made to for the spoken word it's it's just the section from a quite long poem that was written a while ago and it's a two-part poem the first part is called the vow and the second part is called music of the big top I'm reading from the second part I'll just go until seems right I'm dust pick me up go ahead I'm not poison nor truffle just pricked to good use if you open I'll flop to the right place grape to your mouth there it's placed guest under your tongue there I've said it you're said Numa fog lift me up I'm a child set down here lost and hankering I'm a lion equally lost my roar is radar you bounce it back sound where are you you're cotton to my fields bones in the bag the ghost

[23:27]

absorbing hymns and curses alike flown into your pores and sounded back as silence so why write this real people are burning there's hands over mouths smothered cries then smothering of the answering cry severing of the witnessing ear and endless reverberation of the never heard I'm silence inside it there's a noise rising up as dust from the circus where elephants tramp the ground not from love but bald duty bright mirrors have fallen they're twinkling down here reverse stars tumbled graces resolving itself into you bright fog muffled bell you're my furry cloak all my lost animals returned swirling at my feet and resolving into form beyond form transparent one I see now what lights you from behind you never meant to cover it only to walk the hills with me and plead for a bit of pity before the heat pulled us in separate ways go now I understand you better I'm sorry I pulled the forgetting cloaks so tightly I could only

[24:33]

enjoy the feathers drifting around my legs go the damage done the plumed thing shot from the sky go soothe the wound the sun makes and I'll equally move an arrow of opposition hot where it's cool soothing where it burns an everlasting seeking out the hurt place fool read one more page gone into gotten gotten up good feathered layered long black gold sheen of me batting my lashes giving away glisten and displaying what's left arch of back of calf barely visible spots track marks and pocked flesh I fend off pretenders and direct true lovers to my intelligent absences bend startled ones loosen the already loose skin to show what's open and singing the song of open alive die die a waltz you see you lead and I'll change with it feigning ignorance die alive die like the variation significant good make a theory

[25:38]

around it take an hour a day a lifetime draw out the lovely green tendrils the whole is the same um well maybe I should just put this over here we'll pick it up so this is entitled I just wrote the other day yesterday so I might fuck it up at Tosahara you know I was down in the upper barn and I've done a hike and uh like a rain stick and yeah and so sorry uh basically um left the food in my in my bag

[26:49]

and realized it at night and didn't want to go all the way back up to dispose of the food so I just locked it in my guitar case and left my guitar out overnight and the mice climbed up and in all night long I didn't even hear them doing it but they just left a bunch of like their food in there it's rice they've checked that much it's right but anyway it's nice to make a nice percussive sound so I just left it in there from the upper shack all the way down to the north yeah so I've been I just learned the Bodhi Dharma song in our hero the other day I'm not gonna play those but this kind of sounds like them

[27:50]

so living and eating, living off the land each day I spend hours playing and nothing could be more grand well life is love is perfect like every little grain of sand But I got a confession, my mind is making plans So time, I think I've got everything I think I've won, I think I've won I've won, I've won, I've won, I've won Early this morning, I wouldn't have changed a thing

[28:56]

But it's name time and I'm restless, my mind's a monkey swinging palm trees Maybe I'll knit me a sweater, cause it's nippy out this spring day I know I'd feel much better, if I had a love that loved to hear me play So I go out searching, for pleasures that I long to make mine Just one more stick to add to my nest, before I'm feeling fine But I got a confession, my mind is making plans So time, I think I've got everything I think I've won, I think I've won I've won, I've won, I've won, I've won I think I've got everything

[30:02]

I think I've won, I think I've won I've won, I've won, I've won, I've won So many treasures are buried in this land So many treasures are slipping through my hands Each day I start off happy, but it's only a matter of time Before the sun's new setting, well I'll be satisfied Ever since I was just a young boy, and I wanted what she I chose

[31:04]

I've got a list of all that's meant for me, and every day I live it grows Would somebody please help me exit this labyrinth I'm getting nauseous in this disease In moments holy, I take a sip of peacefulness A strip to resist, the rest comes from this Each breath is divine Exit through my mind Each breath is divine Exit through my mind

[32:10]

Exit through my mind Exit through my mind Thank you. So, I have a couple of poems here. Night, we have already died now Is it okay to be free?

[33:14]

Oh come on, no one will see you Giving up everything in the universe For one step taken on this dark path So intimate with the stones and shadows No one will see you belonging so completely You can slip into that space, a black sliver in the night air No one will see you, and really they all want you to All together, that is what they are All together, we sing And no one pretends to be someone else Here's the other one. I wrote this one tonight. Heads, we're done Tails, there's more to do Walking, standing still

[34:21]

Totally fulfilled, all emptied out Let us give thanks for this inviolable intimacy And let us give thanks for not being done Let us bow to our incompleteness For it is the freedom of our completeness Thus this beauty keeps turning As you, as you, and as you Thank you. We'll hold back. Time is passing. If you bring it over here, I don't want to go too far. I'm already nervous enough. Thank you. I will stand up though. I've got two short ones. Thank you is said with a smile or a bow

[35:26]

Wouldn't it be wonderful to do it all day? And the other one. Sun, smile, fire What do they all have in common? They all bring light to life. Thank you. Happy thus rhymes with truth Way out on a limb to limb Swing with a rope swing To swing out over the ocean waves The shapeless light sound Water rock crash The world of air swinging itself across

[36:28]

Broken and other ways to drop in Appear, disappear Rising, dissolving, green to gold Over and out, these waters will transform Says happy now, the touchless warm glow How, the way pointing And there goes the whole tree Arms around the moon Swinging on a single tooth So this is from my life Before my last heartbreak A love that from the beginning was goodbye In this winter I met you with wonder I hung in there even when death Sprinted through your dreams Yet in the end you defined it In twenty-first century terms Codependency I would call it fear

[37:32]

You're with another and then another And another after that Goodbye isn't such a terminal thing And then this is that assignment Where we were supposed to spin around Or look around 360 degrees Twenty flies on my foot The sea rolls back silver It tickles Happy, someone has found the way Sad, for I have not, yet Um, I have two more Daughters of Mara, tempting me

[38:34]

From near and far What? What? What? Say it like you mean it Did I say it like I didn't mean it? Daughter, dot I don't know, where am I? I don't know how to say it, what are you talking about? Daughters of What? Am I a puppet or what? Daughters of Mara Tempting me Excuse me Daughters of Mara Tempting Hold on, I don't know Confusing me Daughters of Mara From near or far Tempting me Flaming Samadhi Dancing with demons Mick hits the drum Boom, boom, boom

[39:35]

Kumbaya, my lord Kumbaya, my lord Who's next? Can I get it from over there? It's nice if you wear it Here Here Like those incubating chicken eggs in third grade

[41:15]

The miracle wasn't just that the yolk and whites had dried up and turned into volition Setcho says the chick and mother hen don't know each other But is this just a favor between friends? The point is, in this business of emerging, the question is, first, who is pecking out? Then, if there's a knock and response from the outside, the question is, who is pecking in? And then, if a hole is bored wide enough for the gods to offer flowers and the rain to soak through When the effort meets beak to beak, the last question is, who is left standing? Herein lies the revolution Can I read another one? Yes It's short Something that dies slowly like a habit or my grandmother Something that clings on to whatever edges are available

[42:17]

And holds with abundant tenacity to shreds The way we love even tiny bits of sea glass The way we can't put the cigarette down Love like devotion scours what's left under my nails Makes me willing to die And flushes out the question Is there really anything left undone? Thank you So, I have two as well Alright

[43:19]

So, the first one is called, uh, Nicky Very deceptive, right? So, uh It's a haiku Without you, winter comes Rains fall, the fields go fallow No plum blossoms remain And the next one is about, uh, being enchanted Having just met, we are already married Living together, we cut wood, bake bread, and grow food Having children, we homeschool them and build a boat from wood in our backyard Getting old, we sail to an island somewhere in the Pacific Eat fish, wild rice, and die Our life was just how I wanted it to be And all this was without knowing your name

[44:28]

Thank you That's something I saw I've seen more notebooks than him What's your lovely wife? Yeah, God, you're so good to me This'll surprise y'all, I'm sure What has to go on first, the glasses or the mic? What's the problem at this time? I'm trying, I'm trying, yeah I cut Prue's hair No! That's the pole

[45:37]

We're through without the glasses That's true A little of both If all things preach the Dharma in being just themselves When have we ever been apart? Now clear, now cloudy The reflection in the stream is one with the flowing water Though this image, too, may be just another thief I kick off my shoes and wade in Now, those of you who will understand, this poem was during one of those times with my boys I can't say much about animate and inanimate But ask me about a mother's grief And I'll show you how I dry my eyes These words are just black ink on white paper

[46:43]

They're mute till they are read Though, too, they're one I animate the inanimate The inanimate animates me This wordplay raises the whole world Though just so much wind it burns up the universe I remember that Since I didn't write a poem, the name of this poem is With a little help from my Sangha Is this loud? Can you hear me in the back? This is a test Only a test

[47:45]

If this was a real emergency I'd actually let go Jared's poem. Thank you very much Thank you You haven't read anything in public before, so Now you're warmed up We're not public What do you call a public? You can hang that up You can see how it's got a clip on it This is new technology

[48:53]

This is supposed to go on the belt This measure says this is a tape Thank you for letting me join your class so close to the end Sorry Uncurl, rise Stand, stretch, towering Poised, ripe, ravenous and fuming Dig in and fall into your natural, fierce pace Go, go, go, erupt Bursting beautiful, savagely intense Wheeling fast, fast, faster This is called Found Deep in the forest

[49:55]

A scared little girl Met a lost little boy And held his hand How do we get out of here, he asked I don't know, she answered After a while, they said Let's just stay There is a golden bridge That leads to a golden gate Some don't see it Some do Some don't walk Others walk through This is easy This is a microphone

[50:58]

These are three haiku And one haiku What's the longer haiku? Tanka Or waka Oh yeah, waka Winter night Big moon Walking beneath dark branches In patches of light Bright morning Blue sky And the tops of the oak trees illuminated 5 a.m. zazen The sound of the creek Rushes through silence Red-winged blackbird glides Above the pond Wood smoke drifts from rooftop chimney Up toward a daylight moon In the faded morning sky Wind and water

[52:15]

Homeless The air I breathe out You breathe in Rakasu covering the belly Sustenance Umbilical colorizing Thank you Am I fourth enough here? Yeah, I think so Let's see, the first two lines of this poem are from Dogen's essay on Essay on the Precepts of a Bodhisattva Appearing in the vast openness of being Or appearing within the dust Appearing on a wall of black glass

[53:17]

In Clearwater, Florida Or silhouetted on a church ceiling In San Francisco Appearing in Arabic script On the scales of a goldfish Or written in code On a Pepsi can Appearing, little Buddha In a theater near you Since Buddha, Mary, and Allah Are constantly showing up Let's remember to show up too Enough? Yeah, let's see, I think I have enough This is one I wrote This is one I wrote after I hurt my knee the last time If Kabir didn't say it, he should have The man who spends his days counting losses Is already lost What's the alternative? Be thankful for what you have I'm grateful for The bestowal of Dharma For moments of abiding without fear For the people who love me For the few who have held my hand For the many who don't give up

[54:19]

In this rare moment of courage I decide to add personal precept number eleven Eleven Not counting losses Life is abundant When one door closes, pry open another Life reveals itself Through the blessings of the present Too green to burn Too green to burn Too strong the bark Redwood tree Too green to burn

[55:22]

I did it anyway Unborn child My clothes smell like the kitchen I don't like delicious tofu Which I don't like anyway But I ate it Eat and drink sparingly Five minute shower Help with the dishes Play, sign, wash flats with bleach Call my mom, send my brother a twenty days late birthday card Sit, sit, sit, be careful Bug my roommate, bug my workmate Bug Dennis, find Lhasa and bug him Write Courtney and Yvonne letters and bug them Time to do laundry Why are my clothes or my socks All weird and stiff afterwards My banana's organic Why do I love you I wrote a poem in meditation the other night

[56:40]

Which I never wrote back then And I think I think I'm going to call it Raise your tiny fists in the air Like an antenna pointing to heaven Or silence is violence It would be a shame to spend your whole life Trying to be something you already were All along Because the mind is a vast And delicate ox And standing within this forest fire Your eyes reflect children playing hide and seek By an uninterested ocean And you, with your little tale of vowels Thank you To the serious exuberance Of your ineffable days And the heartbreaking joy Of your lexical nights May the passive composure of kindness Open to the wild flexibility of men Because the clouds are moving very fast And my mind is moving

[57:43]

With the three birds moving south Nothing is still Nothing is holy Nothing is secret Not even the emptiness of the endless nowhere Moving on in Because the mind is a vast and delicate ox And people don't get hungry At the sight of a lush cornfield Or a herd of cattle It's enough to say we've been raised on our education And not our awareness So I'm just going to sit here And think of a badass nickname for myself Like laser or cinnamon Okay, this is not a, this is not zen

[58:52]

This is, well, anyway The title of this poem is Ramon Can't sit still Humming to himself Throwing bits of paper Skinny arms and legs All over the carpet A fascination with crocodiles Sharks, baboons, and lately jaguars Because, as he says, Them can kill us Won't eat meat Because he feels bad for the animals Barely reads Spelling words one can only guess Once retained and still behind But a jaunty watercolor jaguar Complete with bloody fangs Shows talent beyond his years When he grows up, he says He wants to keep snakes And paint That's it Anyone else? What the hell She said, what the hell This is slightly, something slightly different

[59:59]

From room two The little thing The little thing is the microphone Oh, yeah, that one You can clip it on your sweater That's all right I just want to say thank you for I've just been coming the last two times And I feel like Green Gulch has opened up Poetry to me So this is a bit, perhaps a bit Pubescent, as it were Sort of way of expressing myself Because it's all new And this is with thanks to a friend Where did the fear and loathing begin? In what dark place before time began? The undercurrent has been present Creating the walls Protecting the soft, rawness Pink and oozing Where are the boundaries? Why did you not help me create them then? Probably for my own good My need for freedom Imposed by my need for freedom He responded

[61:00]

None of us conscious Now I am More aware The pendulum swings between arrogance And self-loathing No coincidence I've chosen To take the middle way I cry now from the depths of my being For being left as a child Left not knowing Left without a past Dependent on the present fully Thank you I forgot my notebook But I wanted to read a poem That really resonated with me This is Gary Snyder I'm sorry I disturbed you I broke into your house last night

[62:02]

To use the library There are some things I had to look up A large book fell And knocked over others Afraid you'd wake and find me And be truly alarmed I left Without picking up I got your name from the mailbox As I fled To write you and explain I believe I haven't I wrote this before class So I'm not sure which of the lines I'll read But it's about how this, I guess how this class has been for me. It seems that I have abandoned poetry.

[63:07]

I don't know if she'll take me back. But you were always so demanding, wouldn't let me sleep when I was tired, always asking me for spent dreams you might use for fuel. It got so that I didn't know quite who was who. I needed space. I just needed some time to rethink things, reflect, you know, to have my own place for a while. The years have drifted by. I'm older now and half as old as bitter. Last night I leapt up from my dream, remembering your face and we had kissed. This is kind of a trifle, I'm afraid. So my friend says with a toothy grin.

[64:16]

How was it? Did you clear your mind? Are you calm? Did you get your concentration on? How was za za za zen? Oh, I don't know, I say, pretending I don't ask the same questions and forget that we used to play together. I'm kind of overwhelmed by wonderful things I've heard, but I couldn't come last week when we were supposed to read other people's poems and it seems appropriate to read this particular one tonight, if it's okay. Mary Oliver. Actually, this is a book-long poem that's in sections. The poem is not the world, it isn't even the first page of the world. But the poem wants to flower like a flower, it knows that much.

[65:19]

It wants to open itself like the door of a little temple, so that you might step inside and be cooled and refreshed, and less yourself than part of everything. Why don't you do somewhere else while I look? Is there anyone else? Oh, Sparky Flintstone, who comes as angry, gross doll? How I delight in you. That's wasteful.

[66:21]

What? I don't know what I wrote. Who else is hiding back there? Anybody? Linda. Paul? Peter gave me a poem. He wrote this right before he left and he wanted to turn it in. The cherry trees around the temple are in full bloom. They are the spirit or soul of Japanese people. We can't think of our life without cherry blossom. I have to leave here today. Goodbye, our soul in America.

[67:24]

I hope to see you again. Kiko Tatadera. Our spirit. Our soul. I hope you have my two green together. Where's the thing? I think you just wear it now. All together. I don't know how to take this off. I'll just hold it. Is it like your hair is on fire? Even if you're too green to burn. Even if you're still wet behind the ears. Even if you're too young to die. All right. We have a couple of guests.

[68:28]

Actually, we have a few minutes. I just want to recite one more. Anybody else have one more? You can ask a chance. If we know someone else's recite. Go ahead. Okay. It's called Lingway Alone. Out on the weedy ledges, snakes doze. I sip cold tea and listen and imitate the bird song that darts and sparkles through magnolia bushes in this mountain place. How I am filled with salt of the season's bright hand. If only there were someone for whom I could shape my exquisite lack of loneliness.

[69:31]

A poet named Christopher Howell. He wrote it in the 70s. He wrote a whole book based on this apparition appearing to him from the 14th century in China. And he kind of wrote a lot of poems in that voice. It was the 70s. Christopher Howell. He has a published book, right? Yeah. The Lingway Texts. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that. Yeah, he does some. Do you know them all? No. No. That's the only one I've memorized. They're so short. Well, I want to say. Well, this is to my dear friend. During Dogen's study hall, millions of hands reached down to pet me. Where is my master? I wonder who that is. That's sweet. I have another short heartbreak one.

[70:38]

This is from, you know, the most recent heartbreak, which feels like a while ago. Oh, and then a follow-up, too. Not a follow-up heartbreak. The altar, empty now, just the flower, a photo, and a reclining Buddha that you left, you left, and Quan Yin followed. Steeper and steeper, the road does not rest. Each precipice shows the way, clear through to the bottom. Only here is no bottom in this treaded place. I was wondering if we could maybe do this over the summer, if you'd like to host like a once-a-month poetry reading.

[71:41]

Oh, shouldn't I? How many people would be interested who are going to be here? Well, I think we should do it. Then after the practice period, maybe have one, maybe arrange some way to do that. I think it has to go to the practice committee. Oh, no. I think it has to go to the practice committee. That's almost a haiku. Honey, we can work it out. Do you want to collect the pages? I do. So, if you have those poems and you want them in the book, then you should give them to me, if you like, or pretty soon. Do you want a full-size sheet? I would like a full-size sheet, because it's easy to reproduce.

[72:42]

Put my name on it? Is that better? You can put your names on them. I think it would be fine. If you want to, you don't have to. Are they going to be typed again? Well, I don't know if I should type them. Anemia. Yeah, Anemia. If you send them to me, that would be great. It's kind of hard to feel. It's like the mechanics. Okay, so send an email? Yeah, if we can get it on the computer. Well, one of the things is, it's kind of nice to see them. Yeah. I kind of like that. That's great. But you could also put them in print, if you wish. What's the deadline? Well, I'd like to get it done as soon as possible, because I'm going to start another class in a couple of weeks on something else. But I'll be around a couple of days here. The next couple of days, try to get your poems to me. I'm really...

[73:48]

I'm both astonished and gratified that there's such a positive reaction to this, because I, at the last minute, actually made this up when Fu asked me, what would you like to... what kind of class would you like to teach? I just pulled it out of my hat and said, oh, you know, Zen Poetry. Good things start that way, and they're like tadpoles that can grow into bigger fish. Or frogs. Instead of hunting for you, for those of us who don't have a full sheet of paper tonight, a folder or a sheaf or something on that table in the dining room with the money collection box, would that be all right? How about in the office? Mailbox in the office. Mailbox in the office. Mailbox in the office, okay. Okay. That would be good. Put them there. Which mailbox? Put them there. Great.

[74:52]

Well, it's about a quarter of, I guess, we can go and do the refuges, so... Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you very much. And I'm so glad. This is such a great time. Perfect time. The expectation [...] Just have to do this in this half. The expectation The expectation The expectation I'm out. That's my class.

[75:50]

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