Saturday, September 16, 2017

Rainy September

I'll survive
Rainy September in Japan
A can of cold coffee
Warming up in my pocket

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Garbage Park

This is the park
Where homeless hid their mahjong board
In the public toilets
To play on benches
When homeful people
Took their eyes elsewhere

This is the park
Where my foreign body comes
To kick itself into shape
Sweat out the toxins of age
Karate my worst enemy
My dojo between three trees

This is the park
Where soccer boys
Chase each other down
In homoerotic summer games
Leaving tessellated footprints
Empty sports drink bottles

This is the park
Where salarymen drink cheap sake cups
Poor young bucks scream at midnight
Find the mahjong board
Smash it into pieces
Drive unmuffled bikes home

This is the park
Where the wind blows garbage
In every season
Half drunk cans and PET bottles
Leaves clogging the chainlink fence
Mixed with mahjong board fragments

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Vertical Society Bullshit Jungle

Dear Japan
I am tired
Of vertical society bullshit
This place is a jungle

Balding managerial lions
Lead prides of chuckling hyena recruits
To the watering holes every evening

Women are the prey
Fishnetted gazelles packed tight
For easy groping on morning trains

It's hard for me to keep seeing
Eye to eye when everyone takes their place
Up or down a social totem pole
As immobile as any carved in Canada

This son of the North
Has seen enough jungle
To last a lifetime

Friday, July 7, 2017

Shinkansen Haiku

Her spiky cellphone
Slid like a cockroach from her
Lost in train make up

Friday, March 24, 2017

Kentucky Racial Tension

No racial tension
In Lexington Kentucky
Just tense & intense races
Black & white race
Cat & rat race
Foot Ford train & plane race

I am lost amidst this

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

When Your Eyes Are Full of Tears

When your eyes are full of tears
They're also full of prisms
That make rainbows before you

When your heart is heavy with dread
You are grounded firm
Enough to cast a weight far from you

Monday, January 30, 2017

Plan for Syrian Refugees

If I wielded the pen
Of the American president
Here is what I would do
With the throng of refugees
From Syria

Take them all to the American desert
Have the builders and architects
Re-create the beauty of Aleppo
Before the bombs fell

Have the bakers, cheesemakers and chefs
Fill their air with the smells
Of the fatteh feast of Damascus
And fill the bellies of all there

Have the teachers teach
Have the children learn and play
Have the mothers and fathers love
Have them all heal and live again

Most importantly
I'd have the artists and writers
Write their story
Have the dancers, singers, and actors
Perform it on the stage

Have the Syrian musical
Play in every city in America
Have every American
See the beauty that is lost
And weep with joy
That they saved
The tired, poor huddled masses
Yearning to be free

If I wielded the pen
Of the American president
This is what I would do
With the throng of refugees
From Syria