R. P. Dickey

Buddha Laughing

The old drunk, would-be curmudgeon
at thirty-five, looked fifty anyway,
called you "cowboy" when he got riled
which was often
after a bout of sobriety
when he'd had a few

used to smuggle gem stones in
for cash
then they'd have parties
where the tales would fly

best times, he'd sit around laughing
with a pot belly
after he'd gone to seed
when he actually was fifty

he was a big bruiser
--pardon the common phrase
in sacred poetry lingo
but that's how he'd speak--
a short-hand of his own and his nation's
devising

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