where do you
sleep when the sidewalk's
flooded
and the store eaves
have waiting lines?
what is rain
to a horny cricket ?
thick darkness
the ashes
of elders and frogs
together
in a graveyard
swapping stories
spiders, the
web they built inside
her, empty
brown out . . .
a hundred different
worlds with their
own set of wings
and nowhere to go
rain dances
on her roof without an
umbrella
typhoon!
on the telephone
talking to
a client, his puppy
takes her last breath
rambutan . . .
a sweet fruit hiding
behind thorns
brown out . . .
she burns candles
to ward off
a darkness filled
with childhood guilt
you don't scare
me typhoon, i too
blow off steam
are all the
women here takers
wanting to
be on magazine
covers in drag?
watching clouds
with his eyes closed . . .
hollow man
the frog monk
prays inside the
damp temple
asking for a
different song
calm down, dog;
form in your mind a
sutra stone
do you
dream of me at
night when
darkness walks past
you with a smile?
when the rain
stops, toads enter the
blow gun's mouth
deep sleep . . .
an urge to slip
into a
solder's armor
between dark moons
long before
dawn, comets
mimic dolphins
this morning,
rain and sun come to
the quiet . . .
nesting in a cup
of coffee
a retired man
sips morning coffee . . .
fluorescent tide
black pajama
people dodge flies
and locusts . . .
a thousand years
in deep tunnels
early morning . . .
the stream between
her legs
that moment
at night when the moon
stares at me
with a sheepish grin . . .
my wife steeping stars
