He is tall with limbs that stretch like  
         roots,
     Eyes and teeth and ears sing joy
  ‘What does love feel like?’
He asked my friend
Her nose twitches, her ears spike up
Like a bunny offered a carrot
  ‘Like a deep breath in
       Like walking through the door,
           And dropping your bags.
              You're home.’
                  Exhale
She smiles so bright, I'm sure
she has swallowed the sun
   ‘What does love feel like?’
He asks me
    ‘Bug under a boot.’
Exhale

I still love you
In all of my indifference
And the time that I have spent floating
When you don't so much
As cross my mind
You're still alive
Living in my lungs
Stealing all my
Oxygen

Kyoto rock garden:
mist rises among the pines...
where is that remote?

Bashō-san help me !
That big frog on lily pad
scared me with Haiku.

Shinto temple dawn...
monks ringing the temple gongs:
what a hangover.

Island of robots
poetic soul of *****
and those weird soft drinks

From bowlegged troops
invading the entire East
to bland consumers.

Japanophilia:
weakness of the western mind
grass no greener

i watched a boy turn into sound waves. his blue eyes made my heart catch in my throat and the way his hands danced among black and white keys made me ache to become a beautiful melody.

i watched a boy become a beacon, illuminating the world with a smile i didn't know could exist, i know now why the sun is so bright, it's in competition with his heavenly glow.

i watched a boy fall back to earth at 6,000 miles per hour head first into a crowd rush. he never looked back. never hesitated. and the trust he had in those people was enough to make me cry.

I can't decide
what I am anymore
Happy? Sad?
Drifting
in the middle
My nose is above the surface
while my mouth keeps swallowing the waves
So that I'm almost drowning
Almost breathing.

Nightmare creatures don't just live inside our dreams, where they like to feed upon our silent screams.
Nightmare creatures don't just feed upon our silent screams, they continue to form teams, to float boats on the streams of our tears. They waft gently upon our fears and slake their desire upon the funeral pyre of our fantasies. Then break us down with fallacies that families are ecstasy when only should we feel pity. Nightmare creatures that inhabit our dreams scream ecstasy when we deny family but only in a dream, it seems, our nighmare creatures can only get the best of us when we choose to stage a scene.

listen -
hear no sound, feel
only wind on its way, ghostly
nothing's, but hush to sharp wings
of ocean birds so fraying as they cut
the sky, shuttle to fairways, far aways,
in plaintive cries, i hear what they say,
sailing into the jeweled skylights, but i
am only weight of air, still on ground,
i mumble out, sidle the bone tides
that roll to land, grains of clarity,
i am mist and tear, a world
of hollow, i am that sound -
of ocean in a shell.