Housekeeping
Let’s not be rash.
I know we were promised a millennia of glory,
but can two mugs of tea suffice?
Last time I saw you I tried to be coy.
Impish, with a curl around my finger.
What for, cowardice like that?
Next time I’ll be more forward.
Peel back your paper screen skin to free the freckles beneath.
Press them against my cheek like fallen gingko leaves stamped into the forest floor.
Tuesday in Taipei
People told jokes
in languages I never learned.
Peripheral and mute,
I sat there and thought about
the bird from last New Year’s Eve
whose body I heard break
when it fell from the sky
and collided with the asphalt.
I am playing
that game where you wave at
strangers in passing cars
in the hope they’ll wave back
and losing.
When the bird died, I placed
both of my hands over my mouth
in shock. It was so incredible
I couldn’t speak. Most of my days
pass like this. Spectacular
and silent. Magnificent
and untellable.