Sunday Squibs

 

The Zen monastery has a man with a stick to keep the meditating monks awake. 

At my place even the stick man has dozed off. 

To get through the world we must be flexible, just as our skull was flexible to get us  into the world. 

When I see a drop of paint I’ve left behind I’m pleased to think not even Rembrandt or Picasso could have done it better. 

Jackson Pollack, maybe. 

All the venial sins in the world won’t add up to one mortal sin. Though they will annoy the Almighty mightily. 

Thieves are like rats. They won’t go away until we remove their food source: money. 

The minutes of light built up between the solstices winter and summer

Now ooze away like coins from a purse slit by thieves

What a bummer

The road to salvation is narrow 

With ten thousand switchbacks 

Those zippers on food products are convenient, but have a shelf life shorter than the contents in their care. 

When I was young I liked working alone

Now I like someone around

To call the dispatcher. 

If I fall to the ground

Death will be my wedding day

The thing has been arranged 

I must see to my wedding clothes

They say I’ll be quite changed

There are two kinds of people…

I shall not divide

We’ll take one and all

We’ll take them in stride