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Night of the jelly fish
and starry plankton
The 40 pound ghost cat fish wiggles its whiskers
and the octopus sings for me:
kiss me, kiss me, kiss me now, oh pretty baby–
I’m a guest of the wind and
wildly tamed surf that pats the brown sand down:
Welcoming party for Nari

I watch the sea worms glow
the thicker ones made into chewy noodles
with black bean ice cream curd
and fried chewy anchovies potato chips
main course is maybe chicken
with alot of rice and red paste…
I smile a lot these days

I serenade the moon with midnight moos
to match the sirens of the incoming ships
moo to the ice cream and yogurt
and the cow and the cheese…
moooooooo…
but I miss cranberry sauce the most!

That’s okay,
The moon watches over me
my inverted image on the Yellow Sea
as it does you on the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s a beautiful holiday along the board walk,
Happy Thanksgiving/Chesok!

Running away
praying peace and love
that I can’t hear above the need
such a loud cacophony

Running away
burning promises
Others greed that came
decievingly

Running away
Turn up a song
of my unanswered wants
all i hear is others symphony

Seeking a runner’s high
Silently heard
In complete
curiosity

Running away
Nowhere seems like
Everywhere or just the place
without mundanity

Running away
Taking a slide
Leaving my life
Temporarily

Praying your love
Giving you mine
Like the gray stoned road
And not the broken dream

As I looked around the new teachers, I was kind impressed with the bunch. Some have wounds that aren’t ready to heal. Others left their IT career behind the desk coding to explore the world and some are fresh out of college and just want to party. My friend looked at me and said, “My grandmother and mother have lived within walking distance all their life and it’s been that way for generations. I was tired of doing the same thing.” Above, more market scenes, below, motion photography from a taxi…from pretty in pink to coming from left-field, what-the? abstract: I love Asia.

It’s 12 o’clock in the morning
and I miss the hair between my eyebrows
like I miss the bright orange wreath of my car
he asks, –what do you want me to do with the plates?–
I think on the question like
a death row inmate ponders the color of his last shoes
–Recycle them and make the world happy.–

The right side of my brain takes coup
My Will makes me giggle at reality
I don’t want a last ride
a last kiss
a last goodbye
If you had to make an effort
than I wasn’t that important to begin with
Just save your precious guitar picker
and keep on singing the same old song you are used to sing’n

This average gal wants more than ever
to be the cold pressed wheat germ oil
that heals a hopeless heart
fresh baked smell to wake the soul
that finally feels hunger
the ordinary is meaningful and the mundane is beautiful

The Will smiles back,
What do you really need that I can’t possibly give in my living breath?
What are you living for that you really can’t live without?
If I can answer those two questions,
than I think I found what success smells like

Paying lip service to the golden collie
with a ripped drooping eye and heavy body;
no one wants to touch something they can’t help
I think she is about 12 years old
she plops her head on concrete like a feathered pillow
unable to leave the comfort of the crowd
“Take her, take her,” I look up
“We can’t take her home….”
She doesn’t even bother looking back at me
and the children feed her more chips
because that’s what makes her tail wag
I am at orphanage where all the kids are black or brown
The dog is golden white,
I can’t help to think that desolate and unwanted
is an emotion even the dog understands