from your life

when you weary of meetings and rain,

waiting for the bus

and cursing your luck.

It is a vocation

that curses your life

and can’t wait for luck

but must meet head-on

the bus weary and rain.

It is not to scribble

a granted sky

by a tree

in the evening park

with your dog running free.

It is to run the dog inside,

scribble the evening

into the sky and park

your tree between

the granted and the free.

english speaking
cursing dreaming moaning in it
waist deep chest deep
in over my head
i eat these words
a whole thesaurus
stuck in my throat

stuck like sweet treacle
or glutinous rice, you say
why does the teacher strike
me with her wooden pipa
as i sing whitney houston for you?
my tongue feels kinda funny
i think i’ll go eat worms

mr neither-here-nor-there
doing a slow limbo rock
lower and lower straddling two halves
there’s a smell of joss
and the crowd is crunching ritz
something’s about to dislocate