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some of my best arrangements
or arguments
occur while taking a shower
no place to easily write
as tissues within reach
would fall apart,
taking even the most permanent
words down the drain


so do I sing instead?


not really,
it's more like a chant
repeated until the reality
and hot water have run out

but the one consistent
after image
beyond my conscious control
is of the Dalai Lama
smiling and laughing
his eyeglasses on a shelf


far, far away, but cleansed
by the same blessed water


who knows what he thinks
in his wet orange robe?

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