as the number of ships lost on both sides escalates

as the number of ships lost on both sides escalates
less of wine and distaste for rum
smugglers and privateers prevail for no one
i turn to liquor in famine of weed
in weeks of Saturday nights
thanks to retirement on hands and knees

i keep my vessels where warm waters flow
to coddle the heart of the native returned
though fallen had she for Seneca Falls
the house of three gables would still winter travel
but storm-tossed island with little passion
this may as well be a starving Quebec flour ration

for all the ventures we've neglected
without rum or wine for travel perfected
i've taken to driving great distance on bike
flying to Hong Kong by myself as i like
riding high speed rails to Taipei
or going alone to a Miaoli cafe  

as she keeps her ships bottled up in her port
and likewise her priviateer pirated thought
no Thailand nor conquest Japan as we did
not for lack of bread that we hid
this old man moves onward before he turns dead
and upward into the wild blue yonder red

9-29-13

Taichung Park

opened floodgates wash not with force enough
to straighten the roads and flush out Taichung City
only north along the Han do invalids stay indoors
immigrant laborers push no wheelchairs
hookers don't hook and queers don't look
as ghostly newlyweds obligatorily cross the pond's bridge
to snapping shutters obsolete since digital cameras
in the gazebo pagoda surrounded by high water fountains
amid empty cages and bird soaked trees of Taichung Park
all things outrageous are attributed to you
the crippled mayor who moved real estate westward
hears none of the squeaky AM radio voices you play
he's far from the crowded park
that the Japanese made for the natives
downtown Taichung left dingy for entrepreneurs
folk that respect the past's prosperity
and beauty of the colonial gem of central Taiwan
the gentle folksongs dancing and tai c'hi
the food carts and art crafts of aboriginal splendor
regeneration of Taiwan's inner girations
out of the shell and old world renews
embracing variations not corporations
or capitulations to reunifications
sweet as the jelly grass under the lotus flowers
magical Taichung Park that the politicians discarded
we'll gather around your sweet water willowed creeks
remove the cheesy facades for a new merchant chic
reveal the old and make it vital
reclaimed, recreated, and recreational recital

9-27-13







 

when wafing tea breezes fill the air

when wafing tea breezes fill the air

sip warm oolong in the tea room

spent rice stalks smoking and burned

when the dry northerly wind dips low

typhoons pass over and under Taiwan

soon coolness will replace the sweat

over mountain ridges to greater heights

where trees shed orange and brown delights

falling from cypress forests down

past mid-autumn into winter ground

without a taste of New York bitter

change for better when the Han grows wetter

wrist-bound and fist thrust upward

clandestine soldiers wiser and older

political squabble break brittle and colder 

when doors show their thresholds

only snowflakes enter
into the red chamber

 fine wine poured from Spain

drink warmly with my lady

 

9-23-13

 

 

 



what use be vague "Taipei" novel?

what good be useless vague Taipei novel
not of Taipei but popping pimples?
which publisher took luke warm as heroic
and marched 250 pages of can't-make-up-your-mind
onto the New York Times best seller list?
alas, jobless and admiring hipsters,
turning Williamsburg into the opposite of Greenwich Village
wanting, like the protagonist,
to go from party to party
vaguely seemingly wondering where you left glasses
or which damsel with stardust brains
would associate with a man less firm than mucus.
ah, poor dying civilization,
where drones know more than video games,
more than blood splattered on neat uniforms
from all the anonymous hearts they've shattered...
vague is as vague does and the ruling class laughs
keeping lost souls moving around in circles
when they should be organizing against best sellers
and demanding to know which way they're going.
recognize your nebulous future,
the one giant leap which was a back step.
vaguely remember what your parents' generation had,
and your generation lost:
minimum wages
medical care
pensions and savings
social security

9-17-13

 

it is breezy near the mausoleum

it is breezy near the mausoleum
if i did not know what it was
it would be a pagoda
it sits atop a hill behind power line pylon
if i did not know what it was
it would be the Eiffel Tower
in front are terraced cement grave plots
they could be calcified steppes of thermal springs
sometimes you know what it is
imagine something nicer

the swallows flap their wings furiously
to make up for the drafty Han winds
not if they could choose
it is where they come from
and i am
stopped at a bench i have never sat upon
Sunday and my usual bench occupied
the Han's flowing at a tree towards me
looks like Vermont carefully
in a moment visit Japan

only reading a book can do
be witness to history
not just Taiwan's piss-story
see the rapids rush towards me
thoughts are scattered rapidly
wind scatters smoke from an unseen source
rely on odors from the breeze
and still Vermont springs
the cool maple trees of my mind

9-15-13

you're the last chapter in a novel about radical fools

you're the last chapter in a novel about radical fools
a few years before minimum wages is abolished
you're lucky to have parents who'll take you in
as individual parts of a broken machine
that modern times has lost a purpose for

you've neglected age old wisdom
forgotten is your lack of professsionalism
full of yourselves with cute contradictions
that you see as my obnoxiousness to point out
i being the specific to the orders
you wouldn't take from an anarchist general

the grief you would have avoided
if you'd grown up fast enough to realize
that we're on the same side in the class war
before i give up trying to lighten your confusion
with some added priority and order

order that you won't rebel against prematurely,
will you?

or will you be the last chapter in a comedy about
how the world of industrial workers was lost
because rich people are smarter
than smart-ass radicals like you
in the one big mess of disunion

labor day 2013

when you spread my ashes

when you spread my ashes

spread them please

over the Han River

into a southwestern breeze

  

let me drift with her

through Taichung to the sea

over rocks and falls

with egrets feeding on me

 

the butterflies can kiss me

the turtles wave me on

we both weren't born here

but here we sing our song

 

when the sky gets dark and cloudy

and dragonflies alight

please take me to the river

where everything's alright

 

so long as i don't pollute her

you've my permission to dump

 with the mountain stream naturally

across her curves and bumps

 

and when the ocean finds me

into the Taiwan Strait

across sea miles to China

or through the pearly gate

 

i'll make it cross the Pacific

like Fukushima radioactivity

 through the melted northern passage

 to Long Island eventually

 

that's where i'll find my mother

grandparents aunt and uncle

a couple of red rosenbergs

and even art garfunkel

 

so when there're only ashes

of what was once my brain

shake into Han waters

my pleasures and my pain

 

but if it is illegal

do not tell a soul

the KMT will catch you

and throw you in the hole

 

do it in the moonlight

with no one there to tell

my prayers will all be answered

if you do it well

 

9-8-13

 

 

 

 



let sleeping pack dogs lie

let sleeping pack dogs lie

across the swollen typhoon River Han

out of reach beached on the eastern shore

i can be their obnoxious malcontent and more

not afraid of their bark or their bite

if what they're doing isn't right

or what they've got is what i need

of if there's danger sliding their way

i'll scream!

but since they've done nothing wrong

no reason for them to die

or cry out their last painful yelp

let innocent sleeping dogs rest

shake only buggers from their nest

 

9-2-13