glad tidings
from a dusty church—
wedding bells
Evening’s Work
Prostitutes lie down
for another evening’s work—
three monks chant matins.
Flying
Dreams go up in smoke,
flying through the ragged hole
she gouged in your heart.
Perfume
The buzzards keep watch
as old women dab perfume
on their sagging jowls.
Childhood
innocence
swept away by tears
childhood lost
Laughter
She keeps coming back,
despite the laughter of God,
to the praying place.
Paycheck
A paltry paycheck
brings me to my knees, while tears
stain my last dollar.
After Basho
A flower closer
than my rapping at your door—
which will open first?
Praying
While she is praying,
ravens swoop down from the north
and snatch all her words.
Sunflowers
vase of sunflowers
spilling across the table—
my house is too small