Free
Verse
That
Night
a night
of Haitian ruins
the silence grows teeth
grinding noises
pierce my throat
my hand
ends the sentence
Haiku
Sequence
Ten
Thousand Things
For the people of Japan
Sendai earthquake...
the darkness pierced
only by flashlights
Fukushima plant—
the vending machines
still glowing
Ishinomaki:
a baby found alive
in wood and mud
a dog rescued
from drifting ocean debris --
the sun rising
radioactive scare
this a world of dew
and yet...
Senryu
I kneel
before the stone cross; a fly
wringing its hands
again, he
waits
in line to buy Super 7...
new moon
guests
long gone…
debating over the price
of the gift
subway station...
all ears are covered
with headphone sets
her
thigh prints
on the waiting room sofa
two watermelons
Buffet King
at dusk
enough on your plate
yes, divorced and broke
an eagle's
shadow circles me...
chicken dinner?
catwalk
models...
rows of middle-aged men
sit quietly
rewriting poems all day
a voice sounds like my own
yelling, Enough!
from
hymn to hymn
the Sunday sermon takes
the shape of her face
Easter
morning:
sunlight reflected
from the wine glass
deep tissue
massage—
what happens between
the poet and words?
Fine Art
Gallery
full of still life paintings
her bouncing breasts
immortal through cloning…
he wonders what to do
on a Sunday
Tanka
between my hands
there is a physical urge
unruly
inside my heart
the shadow curls up crying
the shadow
claimed
I was the sun and will be
again
for I am not going away
I've lived underground since
they
cut out
half of his inside
filling him
with the chemicals, the pain...
she pounds the table, I want...
I
wake
from the Taiwanese song
mother hummed
decades ago—
autumn rains on the roof
moonlight
spills over her body
once again
my fingers follow
her curve into dawn
Ozymandias…
in wind-blown sand
I write my poem
where it's read, revised
and then erased
you are a
verb
transitive, on the move
I am an adverb
wondering where to go...
what shall our subject be?
blinded
by blazing winter sun
I hide
behind closed eyes, reading
the weight of each passing face
Marry me
today and every day
Mary...
he flies a blimp
over a rooming house
its lone
face
stares out from behind glass
steamed
from panting...
are we kin to each other?
my
mind
emptied of thoughts
opens
closes
as autumn gusts blow
