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 © 2021 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.