Junior High Koans
by Alan Gann


A shy Buddha spent years in the attic
crouched behind the trunk
where we hid our stolen Playboys.
We never gave him away
and he kept our treasure secret.

A meddling Buddha rode his white tiger
through the lunch room
just as I was gonna ask Carol
to the harvest dance. She and Jimmy Potts
got caught beneath the bleachers.

A whimsical Buddha
carved his name in limestone waters
where Sara suggested we dive in.
Don’t be silly; we don’t need suits.
I can still make out his enlightened scrawl
in attics dark and dusty, on wild tiger fur,
beneath the quarry surface
deep and calm.






Copyright 2020 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.