Two Poems


Success, Nominative

 

Yvan said, we had the same niche
when he had long hair and, like,
DFW chic. Then the girls came:
hoards wild for
the trees. In dreams,
I kill Yvan: stampede
or by fire, ecologically
succeed.

 

  Trot, Canter, Gallop

     During the leisure weekend my father rowed across the Huang Pu and having
     no hair, the wind blew through it.

     My sister dipped her finger in the water, a forbidden and beloved
     delight.

     On the Wilderness Island, the styrofoam horses drove faster and faster
     by golf cart.

     The man-dug Huang Pu, the natural embankment, the domesticated horses, the friction of
manufactured concrete.

      Mother says in Mongolia they drive golf carts with horses in would be
     stampede.

     In Mongolia the men in the golf cart laugh and laugh.