Once, night, unchallenged, extended its dark grace
across the sky. To the credit of the town, the stars
at night had been enough, though sometimes
the townspeople went about bumping their heads
in sleep.
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The Peach Boy
Each birth came too early, the samurai’s daughter producing a peach pit with the face of a crying boy or girl.
Auto/biography, or so I was tolde
she pickes mye foote up by the heele
dragges hir fingre padde
along myn arche
& seith unto me
thow hath a noblewoman’s foote
The Eye of the Cyclone
A poplar tree shakes its wet hair
in front of a mental hospital in Ch’ŏngyangni
Maybe the night wind is blowing—
Appleless
It’s unsettling to meet people who don’t eat apples.
