monotanka cluster (collection)

a peeping Tom: his fetish drives a wedge between us—ordering glazed donuts quickly

unwritten rules of hospitality broken, the sin of Sodom—buying restroom wipes after work

Sodom on earth? wish they'd stop equating Sodom with homosexuality: flowering Chinese quince

sweet and sour manflesh in dark corners, too shy to visit a bathhouse or sex-club

hotel's onyx double doors-open-close-with robotic sameness, im bitten by a mosquito

Ishii Tatsuhiko-san declares tanka are monolinear poems: nearly burning toast this morning

greeting married men—several young boys pass by smelling of cologne and weed...heady

my independence: ignoring the ringing of a phone, i nestle deeper into bed shadows

lamentations fill the air: humans going their own ways all of us craving relief

falling into the twilight of my own body, last bit of pie in a quiet kitchen

lust fueled by wine glasses, i remember when sexuality was fresh. exciting.

often starving—male flesh deeply appealing, the brilliant crimson of the lobby furniture

body slicing through darkness in thundersound revisiting several memories--crabgrass moves

somewhere in the evening, sound of a wheezing animal-dying--i dress for work