shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Marc Swan


Monkey Mind

While she stirs the asparagus soup, I read
a poem from New Yorker. The words ramble
and jumble before my eyes. She's listening,
not commenting, as I work thru fourteen lines.
I'm not the shiniest apple on the tree nor am
I the worm-bitten soggy one on the ground,
but this one loses me. My wife is smiling.
She's a yogi and has a bit of true zen about her.
"In meditation," she says, "we try to calm
the monkey mind." I picture this little guy
jabbering in my ear, head bobbing to a rhythm
only he hears and I understand, sort of.