Bellowing trumpets call the palace to order and servants,
Dressed from head to toe in exquisite lace,
Promptly wave their lush palmetto leaves while the Pharaoh
Ambles domineeringly down the marble corridor.

Though the floor rattles at the cries of enemy soldiers
Penetrating the once impregnable palace walls,
The mighty Cleopatra, exuberant in both beauty and intelligence,
Maintains a powerful, dignified forbearance.

Immune to cowardly apprehension petrifying those surrounding her,
The Pharaoh relies on only her brooding heart to guide her.
Though her once opulent eyes scorch in melancholy,
They look onward toward the cynosure of her existence.

Clad in dense armor, Mark Antony clasps his sword resiliently,
Pacing nervously back and forth throughout his room
At the thought of the danger soon to overtake him.
His breath hangs heavy on the seaside air.

Antony’s complexion brightens at the sight of alluring lover,
And he releases his guard, opening his arms as she approaches.
Shouting erupts from the neighboring corridor
Though neither he nor Cleopatra discern the enveloping chaos.

As Roman soldiers zealously round the corner and overtake the lovers,
Waving their weapons high in hopes of slaughter,
The couple’s lips merge together as one,
Producing an everlasting bond that no sword could sever.

The milk man died last week.  I didn't
know him well, just enough to know his favorite
chew and how much he hated Fritos.

I knew his lover and her worn-out
windbreaker, her frizzled hair as gold
as her Marlboros.  I sold her a pack of silvers

once and she nearly snapped my neck.
They take (took?) their tobacco dead
seriously.  She hasn't come back

to work yet, though her five allotted
days of grief are over.  The empty
milk crates just aren't empty anymore.

(For context, I went to...)
British Kindergarten in England,
French Elementary in Switzerland,
International MS in England,
French HS, then Int'l HS in Korea,
(And then completed...)
Undergraduate studies in NJ, USA,
9-month gap year in Hong Kong,
Graduate studies in QC, Canada.

--------------------------------------------------------­----

I have shattered my identity.
Frequently. Involuntarily.

I have undergone assimilation.
Socially. Psychologically.

I have encountered discrimination.
Directly. Racially.

I have endured isolation.
Grievingly. Impotently.

I have ill-wished on others.
Subconsciously. Unintentionally.

HOWEVER –

I have learned to be human.
Individually. Collectively.

I have discovered empathy.
Emotionally. Compassionately.

I have gained knowledge.
Culturally. Geographically.

I have acquired expertise.
Intellectually. Linguistically.

I have become a citizen.
Locally. Globally.

Perhaps we who are born and meant to move,
Are intended to, and exist to locomote forever,
Walking lands, sailing oceans, mastering the world.

sunshine and
high heels
thrumming music
how do you feel?
pulverized hearts and
love smashed to smithereens
a silver bullet
stops the wolverine
but nothing can stop my love
by any means

Oh baby,
Bring on that fire
I see in your eyes
When you talk about
Your passions.

Let me feel the thunder
In your chest with my
Fingertips.

Quake under the weight
Of my presence.

Darling,
When I press my lips
To your shoulders,
Its like shattering glass
On my nerve endings.

Its like symmetry;
When our bodies are
Playing bass drums
And creating a tune
For eternity.

Because when Im with you,
Time is only the
Instance in which
We forget ourselves.

Sweetheart,
You leave something
Unobtainable inside of me
When you go home
For the night.

I have never longed
For contact before.
For the embrace of anything
But exsistence.
But *******.

When you bring the fire,
There is nothing that
Quite sums up how desolate
I am when you're gone.

There was a particularly nasty looking garden spider
Crawling up the cracked molding of my window
Not that he looked particularly nasty compared to other spiders
In fact, up close, spiders are one of the wisest looking creatures that exist

But I don't have eight eyes like the garden spider
So I can't see that without the help of a camera lens
So to me, he just looked
Nasty

Buzzing from behind my curtain
A particularly nasty looking yellow jacket
Landed next to the spider
I didn't need a camera lens
Close up or far away
Some things are just
Evil

The spider must have sensed this too
With a leap
He grappled the wasp
And they tumbled
Buzzing
To my uneven hardwood floor
Landing with a small
Distinct plink

And I stood over them
While they tussled

As I have stood over a million things

Watching with glazed indifference
While creatures purer in their existence than I
Fought for their lives

I could see that the spider was doing poorly
The yellow jacket was giving it to him in the abdomen
Jamming his stinger in and pulling it out and jamming it in again
Until the spider started leaking white and green
And started fighting less and less

The yellow jacket
Smugly victorious
Save one crippled wing
Started to putter away
But I brought a rolled up newspaper down on the both of them
Like a pillar falling from the front of some great Roman temple
When the Gauls sacked it

Retracting the paper
They had both been reduced to wet smudges
I felt bad for killing the spider
I wish I could have trapped him in cup with a card over the top
And placed him outside on a leaf in the garden
So he could rule where he was meant to

But I considered it an act of mercy
I couldn't stand to see a noble being end like that
And you should always ***** out evil
If you have an opening

I sat back on my bed
Considering it a wash
A bit of beauty for a bit of order
As it has always been