tanka 7/23

nothing so gay

as an exotic dance

or the turning

of leaves

on tired branches

**

on the southern side

an empty parking lot -

i can 

think of nothing

but being in bed

**

after dashing off

a few anti-ghazals

the cute one

calls the front desk

asking for my help

**

my ol' man is insular...

he's to himself

and then 

there's me

searching for my skin

**

after work

enjoying

a cigarette (though i don't smoke)

and a small cup

of vodka

**

have i become 

a drunk?

these days

it is Crown n' Coke

that satisfy me

**

tonight...

i secretly hope 

or not so secretly hope

that i don't have to 

greet another person

**

these days 

i am doing the work

excavating 

my own self for the

authentic me

**