mollusk

  pushing self to make senryu an intense wickedness

  book of haiku on nightstand not interested in seasons

  off to do homework night arrives on time

 an old person smelling  of urine  the swaying  of  public transportation

like Lady Izumi  writing  matter-of-fact  poems  to no one  in particular 

 women in my family gifted with  '2nd sight...'  and bad luck  with men  - a black crow rising gloomily— entering into my all familiar  :"Lady Macbeth" phase of life - swallowed up into a pale mandarin orange flower... don't think ive fully processed my grief

 ever  the outlier i've taken up  knitting... quiet house full of memories 

slightly jaded— with few words i bypass his persistent asking for a date

coming across  persimmon trees there's something indecent  about this  Dragon year .

  2nd month moon fasting social media

bust enlargement... highlighting  my better attributes

  retreating into herself: red 'x's' on parts of babydoll

 unseasonably warm  "did Winter leave  without a word?"

apple scent...i suppose climate control is a real thing - ignoring a guest 'waffles or gumbo for dinner?' - 'dilapidation' collapse of a 30 yr marriage

 coffeesippin' 'is Mars and Venus  still married?' - kids' spinnin' top  i want cottoncandy - Mall shoppin'  walkin' in perfumier's  scent

what i regret dust in the wind— pausing to let a black susan pass by - long line of  afternoon cars i cross the street another day another workshift  - abandoned factories  all over town  this digital age has eaten up people's  reason for being  

  water in stone statue's mouth mundane mundane

2nd month of new year even men by themselves are beautiful  . new year: no 'good' or 'evil' just humans being . another morning still ive deprived myself of longer sleep  . it's the age of the dragon...dusting off moman's obituary  . year's freshness: already a few humans look seedy... . snotty nose—'enfan-d-gas!' completing another work shift  *Kouri-Vini for 'damn, or son-of-a-bitch' . surprising rainpour give me hot misu soup and a magiccarpet . the child prays to the big tree "mærsi pou toukishòj, Vyé Monman." *Kouri-Vini for 'thank you for everything Old Mother (God).'

arranging his toy soldier as older brother—only child

baseball pennant flapping in breeze every stranger seems irritated  . no child yet she grudgingly takes up piano . divorce proceedings..."who gets the mother-in-law?" . on a full train even talking and laughing takes up space  . home after years away, "welcome back accent and dialect!" . smelling of canned figs granmoman's nimble hands cleaning

political speech—at crowds cheering platform about to collapse

out in Icehouse fluid movement of popà's back muscles

talk of multiple personas: now i want veneers...

  taking Metformin room with double-beds . on boarderline of bitchery or civility sneaking into his room

attracted to older men... in the middle of a divorce he invites me to his room

  cloudiness of soot chasing dead primroses .

  child's laughter acquitted of all my father's sins . talk of 'penis envy' indecent seasonal freeze . dogwood spring she gave virginity away for advancement . in shadow of peonies realizing his mistake . aimless sex: drug of choice numbness toward shame . since night of betrayal professional liar and drunk . flowers in decorated feathered duck most days im bored

penal colonies... another reading of the "Penis Monologues"— no call no text nothing

this 'house' more a prison than place of comfort... im unable to outrun my father's demons

house cleaned baking sweet potato pies a salesman rings the doorbell

stood up at dinner two lesbians wrap me up in warm smiles

smell of Bluegrass i prefer cashmere

hazy dreams men with lowhanging eyes... intrusive smell of magnolia

  pitter-patter of rain... pitter-patter of his child's little feet— domesticity - ashtray full of ashes half filled glass of port... on the floor shadows merging - pacing night after night... outside passing cars barking dogs

this new man got me sliding down wide eyes full of myself . i have no children except for the discontent i nurse at breasts i do not have . these days peering in a mirror or when i vacuum or even wash dishes— becoming my moman . rain-slick streets... locked up in my flat still searching for my purpose

  tasting the taste of rain loose threads in old cashmere sweater . reviewing Kouri-Vini words no microwave to warm up tea . barking dogs nighttime walk longer than i intended . scratch of brittle leaves in gembun i can write all about nature

sister gave me daddy's obituary... 1996— the year i entered abandonment

  falling into the depths of maple syrup a new tree and roots an inky black color . at the table in the dining room folding clothes the cigarette burns and burns . red car lights fading from view in this cold darkness ancestor's eyes staring at me from edge of the field .

  a child named 'Gail...' folding and re-folding a baby's onsie well into another thought

  do i become plum blossoms when rejected...soaring darkness . complementing a handsome man fragrant daphne somewhere . shipwreck what i fear buried under primroses . smell of chemotherapy like scent of every infirmity... . hysteria has a smell trying to hide my despair . on the edge of night crying sadness with gin . along with bougainvillea bellyful of regrets . leaf's skin sipping tea deep in thought . funery wreath: i hate wearing all of this muslin . nowhere near mountains fisherman mending his nets . in the taste of kale a dismissed childhood pain . flag moving in a frigid cold his cologne memorable .

  boiling darkness inside of me a reason to leave you

  hotel guest flirting feeling confident for a moment

advice column  my love-life's on 'empty' . spiced rum lilies blush sweetly . train in distance  i feel like  moon-howlin' . more gin  a doll turns her head slowly 

awake... in a haze showering this afternoon folding in on itself on its shadows

  seasoning chicken i think of the old god Bilquis . tenement living off-white walls stare at me silently . plumes of smoke from factories start of a new week . condemned buildings nasty taste of a cup of joe

across the waters gift of a book  of poems the afternoon whittled down to a stranger´s lit cigarette

my man´s mean yessuh i know said my man´s brutal oooh chile' fa sho´ but he´s a blues that i can´t not know

raining comes on hesitant feet wild-argument stains these apartment walls - under sugarcane heat a bit of indecision clings to my shoes

in my world shadows have bellies azaleas get angry and everything else does whatever i imagine

in a sea of bindwood my black body something special in this honey afternoon color - text message from him ´dinner at Pascal´s tonight?´ outside thundersound arrives - finishing some paperwork before showering then dressing rain falls hesitantly