timerick

               A VISIT TO THE ZEN MASTER

 

I climbed a fairly rugged hill –

The path was fishbowl gravel –

So a Zen Master could help me

All my woes unravel.

His hut was small but neat inside,

No luxuries he had.

He lived on coldish lima beans

And slept on Brillo pad.

The Master kindly bade me sit

But since there were no chairs

I stood and let my arms describe

Slow windmills in the air.

"Why can't spring come after fall

and winter not at all?" I asked him

while he squeezed upon a

light green tennis ball.

"When will yogurt fuel my car

and garlic taste like mint?"

my voice went up an octave

as he scratched his back with flint.

"And how long is a golf game

if the players never start?"

At this his eyebrows rose

Straight up and almost came apart.

"My son' he murmured in reply

"your questions show a brain

that can't begin to function well

or handle any strain

But do not let that bother you;

Your lack of brains and face

Mean when Larry King is dead

They'll put you in his place."

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