a hereness is three

tashi delek
tu jay chay
di gong ka tsay ray?

gu xiu nu for tea with currants and pine needles. he is playing guitar in pieces a song
half recorded half he wipes the tables down. this makes a song. two monks on the street barkhor square. one wears a backpack. one speaks into a cellphone. all the prayer beads at their sides
all the robes at their ankles. they peek into a window. hear a young tibetan sing a folk song. and two americans off to the side.

wondered and wandered into much today and the barkhor grows into an orientation we
they clockwise pour yak butter into bowls of floating wicks in the jokhang and we
old musty wood infused with yak meat butter, sage, and urine

why the basket with red and white garlands? when he plays it is folk infused gregorian chanting a meditation he can easily break with self and gather self back into. she has no money and the girls takes the garlanded basket back into curiosity and shyness. take picture, give yuen. does a shopkeeper know boredom here? where does their fascination begin? to notice everyone and everything that passes.

i saw her snatch the basket cradle it in her arms. everything is needed, shared. a kid on one neon rollerskate. which place is the rooftop? we reconciled ourselves to ourselves the other night. we will get into some world. can we be here? should we be here? will anyone notice or believe us? we live our togetherness in secret places.

here, the light is pure directness. harsh and ever present. white, white light. a man has an empty eye socket. i misheard her 40 yuen for 4 and she has no money but i have no interest in that bracelet and if it is not a photograph that means something to me i do not need it. he reminds me. circuit. square. there is an older section, still. where, but we find our ways and things we forgot about. it was always in front of our eyes, the prestige. everyone is lugging something around on their backside or in their hands, their hands and backsides pulling and lifting and holding. the day still isn't done the light makes it

gedum artists guild
tserang dhundrup
"languid dogs"
wang shi min
"women"