ZEN ZOMBIES,
by Ryan Aussie SmithTHUD, THUD, THUD.
There it is again, the relentless drumming that quickens the closer it gets. The discourteous intrusion to the serenity of our 7th street overpass will not go unnoticed. Why, dear brothers and sisters, do they insist on disturbing the silence? Do they not know the perfection of a subway tunnel, the beauty of a lake bed, or the reflective quiet of an unused overpass? No, siblings. The answer is no. They must have noise and light, s*x and violence, hunger and thirst... but never Zen. They refuse to find calm attentiveness, to allow intuition to guide action rather than conscious effort.
Always busy. Sporadically searching to fill a void that is bottomless. Cursed with hunger that is never satisfied and thirst that can not be quenched. All
