One can't be a hermit today,
Bills have to be paid without delay.
Just to survive is an Art;
And debts accrue from the start. 

Philosophers join the homeless
Whom with little success;
Search for the elusive stone
That's more valued than a home.

The Dharma bums high and low
Effortlessly go with the flow;
Where each encounter is a test
Until they join the very best.

Through a myriad of byways
Awaiting what the Master says;
Of the Koan that mystifies
And the Truth that never lies.

Gadgets of the modem age
Are a hindrance to the sage.
The fruit that appeals to me
Is found on the Bodhi-tree.