STORAGE

 

My mother had a sewing box of some light-colored wood

Finegrained and with a slanted oval knot in its lid.

Opening the brass-hinged lid raised up tiers of spools

Arranged by thread-color, some with needles stuck in them. 

(If there was no black when needed, dark blue could be used

But her conscience would be troubled.) There was a pin cushion

Made to look like a ripe tomato and three thimbles;

The heaviest one, dull silver, was never used except to distract me

If my mother needed to think and sew at the same time.

There were pictures on it, almost rubbed away --

A crescent moon, a long-haired woman with a spear, 

Two cats, a boat being rowed through the air.

ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN

 

Over the head of the woman sleeping next to you

You see her dream; as in comics, it's in pastel colors

And surrounded by soft scalloped edges.

She and the last Ming Emperor -- Zou Youjian, 

(1616-1644) -- raise clouds of dust as they argue

In an old-fashioned car racing down a dirt road.

Neither one of them seems to know how to drive;

You think about entering the dream before they hit 

One of the frightened animals running alongside them

But can't remember -- in those dreams of yours

In which, but for a blown tire, you'd have won

The 1961 Indianapolis 500, have you learned

How to use a stick shift?

THE THIRD COUSIN TERRY

 

My cousin Terry -- the one who went to war

Not the one who went to Hollywood nor

The one who went, depending on whom

You asked, to Vermont or to Delaware --

Was tall and strong and had red-brown hair

She kept cut short. During World War Two

She learned to smoke and joined the navy

As a nurse. She gave up cigarettes

Before I met her but would sometimes

Gesture with an invisible one or thoughtfully

Take a puff on it before answering a question.

Her voice was quiet and hoarse and unnaturally

Free of malice. Thinking of her, I always see her

Carrying wounded sailors -- one under her right arm

And two under her left -- as if it was for her

The easiest thing in the world to do.

HERSELF

 

While Ono No Kamachi slept

The self she'd be in forty years

Rummaged through her closet

Looking for her old red dress 

When it was still new 

But other selves, getting there first,

Were using it to play Dragon Queens.

FORGIVENESS

 

There is one particular ant whose purpose

Is to forgive you for the deaths

Of all the ants you've killed

By accident or design. Of course,

He can't spend all his time forgiving you

He's still an ant with all the responsibilities

Of his trade. Once in a while, he pauses

While lugging a sugar grain or digging

A tunnel and shrugs his six shoulders, thinking

"Such things happen. It's that kind of world."

TROUBLE WITH EVERYTHING

 

"The thing about infinity," said Satan to Abetha Gill,

"Is that you can’t trust it. It's everything but

It's never stable and quickly splits in two

And both parts are everythings. This happens

Over and over and over and over and you find

So many everythings in your house there's nowhere

You can walk without slipping on a round everything

Or bumping into an everything with sharp edges

So you go outside -- feeding the everythings first

Since they'll get cranky if you don't -- and there's God

(Who's been driven out of His house too by everythings)

Pretending you're invisible; He knows this drives you crazy."

CREATION

 

At his ease in Anne Milton's kitchen, Satan says

"It is a mistake to think God puts much labor

Into His creations. All of us -- human, demon,

Angel, cat, lizard, fish, ornithorhynchus or Mount Fuji

Were flicked into being by quick, nervous gestures.

More trouble, a little bit, is taken with shadows

Which God lets subcontractors like me make. 

God's things come from immediate inspiration

But  shadows -- I've made more than a few in my time --

Need planning -- all those subtle gears meeting at angles

And thin wire woven into fabrics that stretch

And shrink and never wear out until they suddenly do.

Yes, it's possible but quite rare to outlive your shadow

Much easier to lose one and have some patchwork thing

Tripping after you, getting under foot and not knowing enough

To discreetly vanish under a meridianol sun ."

QUELLER

 

Under the right circumstances any image of Shoki

Can turn into Shoki himself, all tensed and ready

To quell demons. It does no good for us to say

"We're respectable these days and have proper roles!

We are museum guards and small children

Pushing smaller ones in strollers! We are old men

Of no fixed address who sleep on the sidewalks

And occasionally turn into old women muttering

Of how nothing's gone right these forty years now

Or nearly so..." 

                          "Demons, the lot of you! "

Says Shoki, and draws his blunt quelling sword.

ENDPIECE

 

On the last page of 

A book by  Katsukawa Shuncho 

A woman lifts a tall lantern

To light your road as you leave.

DIFFERENT PATH

 

Bored with her routine, your guardian angel answered

A subway ad in 1969 -- the one that said

"If u cn rd ths u cn mk bg mny!" She could read it 

And made big money and in retirement,

Mildly curious about what happened to you,

Has her people set up a lunch meeting.

She seems disappointed you've never, in her absence,

Stepped into a manhole or off a cliff. You shrug

And console her with stories of the foolish, shameful things 

She'd surely have warned you against doing.

 

 

Sent from my iPad

ROUTINE

 

Early each morning I lift

The blinds on the left

Hand window so the

Cat, dead for years, and

I can inspect the day.

SELLING

 

The puppet knows it is part of her job

To mock the puppeteer. "Good people!"

She shouts in her tiny voice "Come buy

The very ordinary candy this man is selling!

He's not much but even he needs to live

And can't live on sweets -- they make him sick.

Also, he has debts. He gambles and never wins

Because he never listens to me." She pauses,

One hand raised, as if listening. "Did you hear?

The Angel of Death just flew by! Wait here a bit;

I'll protect you. And while you wait, buy some candy.

It's undistinguished but it won't kill you. Probably."