tanshi/tanka (Takuboku style)

 crash of beach waves 

somewhere there´s a man crying 

on a night bus headed home

life dont much make sense ...

pausing to think about that

i continue my walk home

rebelling against social order 

tonight

feeling compelled to read Marx 

peering outside 

nothing but darkness and a small light 

from a sad streetlamp

sleeping with my first woman 

cinnamon-colored stockings 

like dried blood on my floor

off to bed 

for only a few hours ...

how often i mismanage my time 

these are certainly weird days ...

there´s something charming

about a rotting banana

water for mint tea

´Bondjé what is this contempt 

churning in my gut ...´

*Bondjé - ´God´ in Kouri-Vini

awake longer than i should be

i step into the warmth

of a shower

too concerned about ´poetic police´

curbing the creative way 

i write tanka