Here I go again,
want to be somewhere else –
feet tramping under the desk,

I study travel brochures,
imagine monastic Hiltons,
the caravansary of my past.

Apples, cheese, a hunk of bread,
the road: what’ll it be today?
I ask myself: the Seine,

Isfahan bazaar, three claps
of the hand, and Yamaguchi,
Takayama-roshi shouting –

Down, down, and breathe!
My feet go faster faster,
suddenly fly off.

Calm, breathing slowly.
I bow to Master Takayama
who smiles all the way from Japan.

~Lucien Stryk


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