Old Liu
Old Liu has endured 60 winters treading 'cross wet Sichuan lanes. Walking onto curbs once more he has nothing but misery to account for all his footsteps. Aunti Ma Aunti ma lives on the inside of an asphault curb between bamboo groves where coal tucks rumble by On her balcony hang brightly colored sweaters, sausages and minced pork. Her son is in prison and the government gives her monthly majang money which she invest wisely in the luck of the draw. Ting Ting Ting Ting wears her badge proudly, smartly dressed in navy blue she walks confidently out into the rain, cappuccino in hand. Last night she and her husband made love for a full 3 minutes while she thought of her first love and he thought of the car he wants to buy. I Used to Have a Friend I used to have a friend who wore crimson robes and talked about sentient beings until he tried to kiss me too many times and now we aren't friends anymore. In a House on the Hill In a house on the hill behind the lamasary lives a girl who at will will blow a lama. They say she is the prettiest in the valley. Her photo once in the teachers wallet now hangs on our refrigerator door masturbation material no more. Now she is just a girl. Poetry I write poems for people to read so that they dont have to think. Ama's White Cat Ama's white cat has a few black spots. It's hair is toasted golden brown on both sides. Topped with blackberry jam I could eat this crisp pastry with a hot cup of coffee. Meow, meow, he cries his way through another winter while I feed the fire. Blue Triangle A blue triangle with a picture of a woman, a man and a poor soul who has lost the will or the ability to walk. Demons be gone! Get up and walk! Everyone else is! The arrow says, "go left"! The Alcoholic I know that the thin man with gentle eyes is not her father. The man with a shoulder hunched up as if resting on an invisible arm chair. The man with curly hair, mustach. The tired man. The alcoholic. Her Real Father When she looks at him she is looking into a mirror. Sitting across from him she is sitting across from herself. For her mother, the world stops when he enters the room. She serves him, beds him down, cares for him in the night while we all listen. I wonder when they first fell in love and how they endure being apart for so long. Hope We used to be rich among the yellow proletariat. Now they drink lattes and savor chocolate chip muffins while I sip my cold coffee and a woman in a parka sweeps Alas, there is hope yet. There, there What does a 40 year old American man, unshaven, scarf wrapped around his head held in place by a leather gatsby shivering and wild eyed look like while riding on a motorcycle behind a dearest Zhuoma barely come of age, thick hands at the throttle, eyes pearing foward at an ice road, face covred against the wind as he pats her thighs occassionally like he would a baby's head in order to say somehow there there life will get better soon. The Bunk Across the Way Sometimes it's nice to imagine the girl in the bunk across the way on her stomach two pearly buttocks pale as jasmine buds young like butterflies face in a pillow breath quickening as she has no idea what your doing back there. Are you smelling it? Is your mouth watering? Is your heart racing? She only feels your beard on the inside of her thighs. This moment will pass quickly for you both before you fall asleep knowing nothing about the girl in the bunk across the way. A Bitch A bitch is a woman who comes in shouting Merry Christmas! known by all behind the counter who kowtow to her knee highs and tight jeans. Let the world know it's a Bank America visa that worked when she was in Korea Why does she have the habit to rub her tight ass while waiting to sign the receipt? Daughters Do mothers cry at daughter's weddings because they are losing daughters or because daughters are changing into something no longer pure, innocent or sacred? Mr. Wu Mr. Wu has converted the 3rd floor into a Temple. As a corrupt man he can afford the golden buddas that would save him from all of his sins. Men In Robes The men in robes are more wicked than those that they preach to. Graft, sloth, lust and lies paint a vivid picture. The result of their prayers will be vindication. Smart Phone The smart phone was invented for writing poetry. Other features are mearly a distraction for those who are easily misled. Life is like this. Orange An orange or a tangerine fell off a cart being pulled on the wet asphalt its color was brighter than all the other oranges put together and yet was seen as dirty. The simple man who lives from day to day will give it value and taste its juices at last! Separation Love seems like nothing and infatuation like everything commitment is empty while fleeting passion bubbles over wedlock is sacred and anything else is blissful joy at it's peak is sadness cruelty, tolerable separation, unbearable. Within Walls We live within walls in a place called ours I on the balcony smoking my pipe and writing these silly things You in your library giggling as you chat with a friend the yellow cabinet smiles at me he wears a flower pot as a cap the sun shines breezes blow it is unbearable for us both we know to not be outside of these walls in a place called our own I am Looking For Something I am looking for something that is the sound of her laugh the color of her eyes the blush of her cheeks the tangle of her hair the thickness of her hands the frankness of her words her statureher smell. My Counter On my counter there is a strainer a cup and a pot of flowers shaped like penises a stainless steel electric water pot some yak butter cookies and a coffee grinder bought in Japan a pipe, three bowls and a can of tobacco What isn't on my counter is my soul and the secrets of my heart. Cars I used to dream of a girl whose mom drove a white Toyota 4-runner She was 14 and I had a motorbike. I used to dream of a girl I worked with She was 16 and I had a Volkswagen. I used to dream of a girl whose last name also started with the letter B She had a 70's Mustang the color of avocados. Now I don't dream of girls anymore. Lost Souls I wish I had a hot, freshly baked sweet potato for every lost soul that I have met Then I could give each a hot, freshly baked sweet potato that I might comfort my own soul
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