Buddha with a Cell Phone, and: Homosexual Eyes

Buddha with a Cell Phone

The sky opens and it starts to rain. I go outside to stand
in the stream, the longed for gift of water here where
it hasn't rained for so long. I shout and dance with the dog
who puts his ears back and licks my nose. When we come back in,
he shakes and I do too, a few drops flying off my hair.
I notice the Buddha sitting on my desk. He's a rubber Buddha
in a yellow robe. If you squeeze him he squeaks.
He's got a radiant smile on his face, his eyebrows
happy half moons over his eyes. As I stare at him
my wife walks by and with a cheery Buddha-like glint says,
"It's raining." In his right hand the Buddha's got a cappuccino
and in his left a cell phone pressed to his ear. His lips are closed
so I know he's listening not talking. One more thing-
I pick up a little kaleidoscope lying next to the Buddha
and lift it to my eye to look outside. I thought it would
make the raindrops glitter through the autumn dry corn
but instead what I see looks like the ceiling of a church
or a great cathedral. I whirl around and am presented
with the image of a thousand rubber Buddhas, each one
a drop of rain, falling, ready to hit the ground.

Homosexual Eyes

In the hall at school where I teach
there's a poster encouraging the kids
not to drink. It shows a movie marquee
for The Vivid Kiss, PG13. A young man
and woman embrace, the marquee lights
shine down on them. They lean into one
another and the woman looks up at the man
with a smile on her face. She is so fresh,
so young, so lovely. I've never seen such
happiness. The young man, too. The poster
caption reads, "This is a night to remember.
You're having a great time. Who needs
alcohol? You get to remember everything-
the way she looked, what he said - all the details."
I have to admit getting drunk looks pretty lame
next to this ecstasy. I read the words again-
what is to be remembered about a woman
is how she looked, and, about a man, what he said.
There's more - "Look around you. The night
looks pretty good on its own." It is the man
who does the looking while the night,
who is a woman, is looked upon.
But the young man is as beautiful
as the young woman and posters like this
are printed in the thousands and hung
on walls where people look at them and give
barely a thought - an exhortation to not drink,
a young man and woman about to kiss.

Imagine if that was all I could see.
Never two young men - a night to remember,
what he said, how he looked, the announcement
for the vivid kiss. Instead, a blank space,
an emptiness that hovers below the marquee,
the sparkle and shine from our absent homosexual eyes.