I saw a guru today
quite real and alive
sat in a full Lotus position
on the far bank of Barton Springs
the raw Southside
not with us on the bourgeois North.
With his hands wrapped in circles
(balanced on his two knees
he had black hair
tresses obscuring his shoulder blades
and pellucid Nepalese skin.
He was a dark fellow
and very thin
no muffins inside or out
but it was his evident nationality
that confirmed somehow
his brute authenticity.
There must be Scottish gurus
silent and orange and all-knowing
kilted in tartan cloth
but I have not seen any
out under the cloudy afternoon
of our workaday Texan Ganges.
He didn’t move a muscle
this beautifully styled man from Nepal
(or Philadelphia or whatever foreign country
he chose to come here from)
and I admired everything about him
except for the unbearable showing off.