Blankness for Sale as Enlightenment
The Buddha stands in golden skirts with sight
Of toenails underneath. Above his waist
Black’s lacquer torso brings the dynamite
Of revelation. He has been erased
Not just by gold and lacquer darkness: he
Is broken. There below the ribs a crack
Has robbed him of his body. We can see
No more of it. He’s lost his head. The black
Gives way to negativity. The face?
It isn’t there. Besides, he’s only on
A plinth in a shop window. That’s some place
For heightened wisdom, for some heightened dawn
Of piety and knowledge. That’s except
For us. We have void to accept.