He’s naive about drinking
And that’s good,
He’s naive about drugs
And that’s good.
Monks are wise from ignorance.
You can’t say how much good divinity brings
When you are ignorant of all bad things.
He never ages. He eats food raw.
He is the most beautiful thing I ever saw.
He is not addicted to sex or drink.
He has peace and ease and knows how to think.
He’s addicted to nothing. He will play
His flute quietly a few minutes a day.
He has no desires and this is good.
But one thing is never understood:
Even as he glories in being naive:
He wants the rest to believe.
He’s addicted to talk. He has to share.
As soon as he speaks, we don’t care.
As soon as he whispers, “Do you know what I think?”
I roll my eyes. I reach for a drink.
If he were silent when he looked at me
My thoughts would drown and I would be free.
