“even before trees rocks I was nothing
when I’m dead nowhere I’ll be nothing
this ink painting of wind blowing through pines
who hears it?
sin like a madman until you can’t do anything else
no room for any more
fuck flattery success money
all I do is lie back and suck my thumb
one long pure beautiful road of pain
and the beauty of death and no pain
mirror facing mirror
nowhere else
passion’s red thread is infinite
like the earth always under me
a woman is enlightenment when you’re with her and the red thread
of both your passions flare inside you and you see
your name Mori means forest like the infinite fresh
green distances of your blindness
my monk friend has a wierd[sic] endearing habit
he weaves sandals and leaves them secretly by the roadside
no words sitting alone night in my hut eyes closed hands open
wisps of an unknown face
we’re lost where the mind can’t find us
utterly lost”
–Ikkyu