Twelve Topknots In Taipo Poem by Birgit Bunzel Linder

Twelve Taoist novices
Walk along the hillside road.

Twelve topknots popping up and down
Like black beans in hot oil.

At the steep wayside,
Bells suddenly toll.

Magically, three cell phones
Fly out of three pockets.

Their chatter pitter-patters
Across the street.

One hisses open
A bottle of coke.

Two tease the monkey
That came to beg for food.

They laugh, they point, they prattle,
And they re-adjust their black boot strings.

When one falls over,
The rest burst into delight.

When the master turns and calls
From fifty meters ahead,

Magically, their phones disappear,
They reseal the bottle,

Give alms to the ape,
and walk on,

heads bowed,
as though not at ease!