by February 6, 2024 0 comments

Sutras written in black charcoal
All along the walls of this madhouse.

Some Sutras are dulled with years and some are streaked
Almost to incomprehensibility by attempts to scrub them

But when the lightning strikes on occasion
In this darkness that lasts from night to day

I manage to read a scrap or two
Until the madhouse descends again into its darkness

And I spend the rest of my time trying to follow the rules
I have found written by other madmen along the walls

As well as waiting and waiting for that lightning to strike again
And bring momentary light to these rooms that house the damned –

Where, if you look in a certain window of this madhouse
At just the right time as the lightning strikes

You can see me, on my knees and charcoal in hand,
Scribbling in the only clean corner of the farthest wall.

– John Tustin

editors note:

We’re all just looking for a little bit of empty wall. – mh clay

Leave a Reply