Tanshi Collection

 

falling skies—

avoiding a heavy rainpour 

his black truck plows through watery streets

on any give night, granny; now drunk

speaks about life within barbed-wire fences

over a let-down-drawbridge...

often i wonder what the troll 

feels or thinks of its lot

dishes in the sink 

thinking to myself 

what color are the 

walls of anger

tonight 

is a night of 

rusted pennies

and this unmet 

craving 

the walls of this house

hve unscreamed screams

another cup of mint tea

i can't taste...

fascists 

come in all forms...

men with nice dispositions 

and mouths full of teeth 

smiling ferally 

pulling another all-nighter 

my stomach has a touch of diarrhea—how irritating

buried

in an old elephants' graveyard

the remnants 

of shame i ever felt

as a woman 

something beautiful 

about things that 

could kill a person...

belladonna flowers

apologizing 

for joking with a guest

who's upset...

he smiles and i smile 

as he walks away 

no kids 

calling me 'daddy' 

at 42

im not sure how i 

feel about this 

for a moment

the hotel lobby 

quiet...

after jotting down a tanka 

i take a walk around 

abused women 

and men 

by the summer 

he has no more tears

to shed

one 

August evening 

a woman 

stumbles into 

a cheap bar 

she is gone now

five years 

there hasn't been 

many moments of me

shedding tears 

still smelling 

my lovely cologne 

in this 

hotel

just being 

vase of honeysuckle

only bright spot 

in dreary hotel 

wet sidewalks 

headed home quickly

after work's end

floating world 

my feet very much 

on ground

call me cynical...

he's announced 

his run for office

Election year—

oily smiles and 

empty promises

childhood movie

for a moment 

everything is right

faux flowers 

mocking  me ...

their lack of aging

irritated stomach

despising this hotel's 

breakfast smells

ready for home

ready for bed ...

i yawn

cranberry juice

for kids—

hotel teeming with life

early this morning 

trying 

to pay my rent

online...

morning has come 

yellow marigolds

dull in darkness 

and so am i

waving to Kenyan laborman

brief sweetness

of long night

string of irritations—

this hotel peace 

slowly recedes

6 am 

a laborman 

leaving for work 

i nurse

a small headache

all night 

this incessant diarrhea...

unsure of what caused it

i go to bed 

with a growling stomach

straining for a yawn 

wishing

i was home 

still smelling 

my lovely cologne 

in this 

hotel

just being 

she is gone now

five years 

there hasn't been 

many moments of me

shedding tears 

one 

August evening 

a woman 

stumbles into 

a cheap bar 

abused women 

and men 

by the summer 

he has no more tears

to shed