Daniel Y. Poems

One morning I woke, to a vicious attack.
Cut at the waist, by a felling axe.
Dragged in the snow, and carried away.
How much I had cherished
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Useless, these words.
And fish breathe God-knows-what
until they’re plucked up, and gasping.
Have they a word for it? Garble.
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In childhood we were close friends
we acted plays of untold glory.
we conquered ear with song and story.
we were a duet you see.
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I run on sunday.
I’m nominated monday.
I’m elected on tuesday,
I’m inaugurated wednesday.
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Perhaps you were a sheet of leaves, strewn across my bed.
That gave me the warmth autumn, and brought dreams into my head.
Perhaps you were a little cloud, gliding in the night.
To keep me warm and safe,
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To start the day he positions a towel
to soften his knees on the stonemason ground.
He wears layers to keep a little warm.
He presents his hat upturned
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People gather around to gawk at
this - is it art? - thing molded from
pure white porcelain doll. sumptuous
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good form is quintessential of:
method
methodically performing repeatedly, repeatedly
raked sand into careful curls and subconscious currents.
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The mound becomes conscious
as vegetables stack
who am I?
orange chicken- tsao
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My horse kept me going a while.
After that, my stomach as empty as my napsack
kept me wandering.
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