does a bird have to fly near your face
to bring you back?
does a dragonfly need an arrow to point
meaning "follow me?"
you cannot be distracted by nature
only returned to
away from what has distracted you
like measly meddlers
muddy boot prints
art sales and royalties
starring attractions being famous
or unknown
progress
or regression
instead of 'being here now' suggestions
through mouths to feed
submissions to
oppressions abounding
requiring resounding fortitude
to pass through the night
when nothing seems right
and catch the distraction
that workers might
10-27-14
it's not very clear
how the hand-driven plow
turns the soil gray
how it putters and smokes
stumbling along the patties where
bonfires of rice stalks ash the land
send the smoke sky high
like in a bedroom at midnight
choking while we're toking
on hits and bongs and incense burning
smoke hiding abstract smoke signals
only scooters fumes here, uninspired
un-inspected
like cigarettes drooping from motor mouths
oily smoke from mothers on wheels
godly smoke blown heavenward
and acid smoke from across the strait in China
smoke in dead air pockets
choking mountains
cataract mountains
fumigation
egrets and dragonflies
in need of ventilation
my son's pain doesn't affect her
to sympathy or love
it tarnishes the warmth
that took a weekend to brew
the intruder she confused
as i fended and took a bite
what did she place on the table
but bitter herbs
and waited to hear me say 'how sweet'
as my son shuffled back to the basement
no natural interest at all
what made the tears so salty
with a cross to bearably bear
she coexisted
his sisters insisted
grandma and auntie resisted
so she threw her pain into my lap
for me to drain away
after years of saplings
as tall as the trees would grow
still no affection
just a drag from undertow
couldn't see two crazy lovers
loving each other crazily
not unlike her and me
and the love that bore fruit in time
10-6-14
am i made whole by this delivery from Brooklyn
as migratory birds flock south over the Han
over the mountains of Taiwan
i am grounded
not the movable type
books that follow me till death we part
with pages that swing
from the past into the future
look at all the migratory verbs
and me, like a dragonfly of indecision
hovering in tandem with my rider
resting on pages of unpublished rhyme
10-3-14
