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“A meeting point for poets of all latitudes”
— Víctor Rodríguez Núñez

Tin Moe, from Bones Will Crow

from A Standard Human Wish

The mumbo-jumbo
It’s not for me, I don’t beat
Around the proverbial bush
In the middle of a magniloquent forest.

The right man in the right place,
I am a recluse who lives
Deep in the jungle where
Trees of knowledge bear fruit.

I seek out and query the so-called
Righteous paths in each and every book
I scour for solutions that might turn
My uncertainties into certainties.

I don’t measure life’s depth
Via a single moment, even in blurred
Dreams, I don’t mix hogwash with reality
I don’t wallow in the mire like you or go in
For poker thrills, I know mind from matter
I am no mediocre penpusher
With a mu’s worth of letters.


I don’t want to be the crocodile in a ladle
I don’t need personal fame, for me, for you,
I hope to see peaceful, serene and contented days,
To avoid the erratum of the past, while I long for
The dhamma, I wish I could entertain you
With doe-pup on my way up to a stupa.