Wayne-Daniel Berard

If the Buddha Divorced

You are the ex
every man dreams of
non-attached to 
narrative; the only 
story, levels of love
in your unapartmented
heart it’s all one and 
you could no more
kick him off your
health insurance 
than you could give
yourself the plague 
you don’t forgive
you fore-give as 
if you’d seen your
every incarnation and
knew it would non-end
this way you’re the only
person who is 
who their dog thinks they are 
she shimmies in joy at both
of you and your
unmediated heart here
is my ex’s number would
you ring her up like
a zen bell?





Beatific Vision

I never understood it
until now sitting across
from you at Bertucci’s 
your margarita rocks
no salt and your prosciutto 
and fig pizza but with shrimp
instead of prosciutto and
that smile defining food drink 
light by participation in
your youness I am not 
content to see I touch 
your hand across the table
Never will I unmeet
you there 
O grace abounding 
and allowing me to