STORAGE SPACE

 

In the place where his heart once was, the wizard
Keeps old spells, most of them useless and some
Extremely dangerous; he’s puzzled to find
He cannot bear to part with them. He has dreams
In which his teacher’s ghost questions his decision
To put his heart in an unbreakable egg under a silver bird
Nesting on an unscalable tree seven leagues
Past the end of the world. “Such plans,” the ghost says, 
“Never work. Trust me, indignant time will bring the girl
Who climbs the unscalable tree just as the silver bird decides
To return to life and the unhatchable egg 
Hatches. Man, you’ll look like a fool!”  On waking
The wizard checks his conscience— first rousing it
With a hard kick — to see if he’s sorry now 

That he removed his heart to make storage space 

Or that he killed his teacher and is pleased to find

He isn’t. Not a bit.

SELF-KNOWLEDGE

 

Old man always knew he could

Turn into a coyote. Never saw

Much point in it.

SITUATION

 

God and I find ourselves at the top of

A very tall tree which is surrounded by

Hungry wolves or perhaps coyotes or, for all I

Can see from up here, tanuki or just possibly

Wombats. God, with His excellent

Eyesight probably knows what they

Are but I refuse to give Him the

Satisfaction of telling me.  Finally I

Say “What should we do?" and He says “I've 

Been kindof hoping you'd have an idea”

NOT AN AUBADE

Cold day. Old man
Walking. Wind decides
To knock him down.

PRUDENCE

Old man, knowing his name may
Run off and not come back, keeps
A drawer full  of aliases

KEKORO

 

Not an oiran nor a tayu nor even 

The lowest grade of geisha 

Just a kekoro standing in a boat

Wearily beating a small drum

To announce she can be rented

For a very small price. Katsukawa Shunsho

Made a quick sketch of her; she's in

The background of a few prints 

And once appears as the main subject.

She turned up here six months ago

Saying  "The Agency said 

You might have some work for me."

She's not survived the final cut

In any poem but has worked enough

To have an ID and is entitled to eat

In the commissary. 

                     What? Of course there's

A commissary for my regular crew

Where soup is always available.

Do anything long enough involving

Irregular workers and one day there is

A commissary where those with IDs

Are entitled to eat soup twice a day

Some days' soup is better than others

But soup is still soup except on Thursdays

When it's stew. (The actors I can afford

For my poems mostly look like 

Free soup is welcome.) There are rumors

Of an executive dining room but

I've never been asked to eat there.

534

Dawn at the docks
Ghosts unloading boats
Other ghosts setting out