A Renga on Rengas

by Michael Sindler

I'm taking the place
of a group of drunken monks
looking back in line
seeking  a new connection
the path towards the future
repeating patterns
five syllables then seven
no fixed ending point
continually challenged
setting sense into meter
the autonomous
fighting towards the surface
floats through the routine
grasping at swimming ideas
and floating fragments of thought
avoiding the trite
as well as the pretentious am I doing?
I'm neither drunk nor a monk
just a monkey with a pen
ink hurled at the page
perhaps only gibberish
perhaps worth reading
imbibing in the spirit
distilled from contemplation