tanka set
nearly
4 in the morning
typing tanka
im not accustomed
to the weight of silence
--
beyond four seasons
something undefinable
crunch of dead leaves
under the feet
of a drug addicted woman
--
cheap tile floors
in mama´s old house
memories
of her blood stains
of his balled up fists
--
diarrhea
side effect of the medicine...
thinking of Sandy
each memory stacked against
vanilla pine scented wax cubes
--
this other ´me´
standing off to the side
staring at self...
i do not want to be a Hamlet
instead let me be an Achebe
--
trash left
in a flimsy plastic bag
tied up neatly
now turning 4 am i was
supposed to be watching a movie
--
once
i wanted a daughter
named Savannah...
now i hope i find love
and dont remain alone
--
remembering
when i first learned about
Mona Lisa
my own Giocanda smile
to the handsome guest i check in
--
on the porch
enjoying a bit of a joint
the air cool
several cars cut through
this oceandark night
--
in my willow world
remembering bits and pieces
of childhood
of fig trees and pine needles
of sunny corners and bike rides
--
these tanka
not as anemic
as others
sharp sound of a woman
opening up her church fan
--
Kishimojin
demon mother who killed
kids to feed hers
in the bayous Lougarou
terrorizing werewolf shapeshifter
--
with
scornful laughter
downstairs neighbor
berates her trans-son
5am coolness chills over
--
reading
of Akiko´s tangled hair
macadamia nut
cookies warmed and eaten
as Thursday slowly ends
--
rambling
to myself on Twitter
i really should be
exercising after eating
all those macadamia cookies
--
still sleepy
a Netflix show plays
i try jotting down
various poetries on
various things and nothing at all
--
milk white moon tonight...
again rambling about tanka
and everything else
--
you have mint tea
and i have black coffee...
we speak of tomorrows and life
--
rim
of a whiskey glass
tonight spent
at some cheap bar
in this penny world
--
restless
tonight pausing
on a corner
i can track all
random thoughts i think
--
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