Chen-ou Liu, CA
a human foot
inside a running shoe
washes ashore...
seagulls squawking
through the winter sky
the Distance
On the look of Death
I ponder...
looking out the attic window
at falling maple leaves
at midnight
I wake and pat at the side
of the bed...
my hand is touched
by the chilly moonlight
the bullet ploughs
through his brain and exits
behind his left ear...
against the attic wall
dusty Angels in America
he who would search
for the pearls in poetry
must dive below...
the editor is just busy
reading between the lines
her face lit
by the glow of images
flickering
across the TV screen—
a half-moon hanging
I am alone
looking out the window
where we sat
to watch the summer moon...
hearing the sound of stars
standing
in the middle of the tracks
facing
an oncoming streetcar—
the sound of falling leaves
alone
one frog after another
emerging
from the sound of water ...
this starless Easter night
she cries out
I'm tired of an ocean
between us—
a pillow away
my love letters scattered
