mollusk

pungent scent of navel oranges  a breakfast of silence  not really sure how i fell  a man i do not know  stares at me intently on the bus  his eyes cloudy gray of a coming storm  afternoon walk to the city park  everything in me craving the sharp coldness of Winter  leaving the coffee mug in the sink  no lover  and no child brighten this house  visiting an old park  seated on a bench  writing in the glow of a slowly setting sun  the old woman  passing by for a third time  glint of sun off the shopping cart she pushes  manman what exactly do you see  in the afterlife?  has  Emma-ō been kind to you 

downtown  in cheap district  moving slowly  from store to store  unsure of what i want  in and out  of this house of mine  too cramped  yet there are bottomless shadows  im not fearless enough to explore 

i know nothing about flowers  or snowy mountains ... let me peer into a human's darkness a cool morning  when i leave the job-site "we miss you Sandy. we miss your turns of phrase" passing an overturned park bench  bits of litter... this tenement life is something else  was told that love is the ripening of peaches... climbing into a cool bed nothing but the whiteness of a dream mid-Fall moon sugary white  i too want to glow with  an unearthly inner light passing the bus stop  tonight a homeless woman adjusts  and re-adjusts her shopping cart  trading emails with that Norwich woman  what do we do with these  broken lives we've been given the 'somethingness' of this life  how quickly i pour minutiae into oblong shaped tanka  standing on the balcony  wrapped up in a thin robe  smoking a cheap Black & Mild Samantha Sang crooning about emotions  the Bee Gees accompany  my cup of tepid coffee no man to wake up next too... brief text message  from my ex-lover gr

choppin' cucumbers  domesticity  settles in waves aerobics— unsure what the holidays  will be like  buying Christmas lights  sweep of fabric on the wall yellowed silk fan trying to ignore his strident tone

 no sounds in kitchen  save mémær cutting up onions and greens for gumbo  iron fences separated them... mémær said  dense cane fields separated us  from freedom  another night walking to work... tonight i am sleepy... in my head  the Creole word for 'sugar' weep over Hiroshima  over Apartheid and Holocaust... tea's grown tepid thinkin' of Humanity's sins  taking off his robe  walking back and forth naked what is this  sudden mood im in a quick shower  then quickly dressing  tonight i will work overnight for the second time   one bonbon then two a guest here'n there  then a welcome silence descends on the hotel  unsure how it feels to be hated  because of ethnicity... in long line at grocery store  feeling reckless  ive gone up to his room  in the darkness  fingers fumble with pant's zipper Takuboku  on a small island  made up of white sand  flirting with crabs never met a man  crying with a  handful of fine sand— im not that interesting some woman  from Hawa

slight bitter-sweetness of persimmons, home alone. there's not much on the tv. i opt for my playlist on Spotify. the 'he' i shld have, is nonexistent...not sure how i feel about that.  in a dark field  decaying body of someone's child  my coffee  tastes quite scorched