Beggars are no choosers

Down at the park entrance, she sits
With the yellow mongrel curled up

Beside her from a long relationship.
Beggar and dog may not cast votes.

Neither has views on who will win.
Their interest in the nation’s future

Is limited to the shiny coins hurled
In the bowl, towards a day’s dinner.

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Season of almonds

Birds leave at dawn for insects.
Now , almond’s leaves fall less

And woman has only almonds
To gather by a  broom at dust.

I look in blue spaces of leaves.
It’s sky turns green and holds

Tiny almonds, like night stars
Before they drop away dawn.

Old nose

Of another time ,another space
A sea stays fragrant in memory.

Inside a living memory’s space
Jockey horses ran for  nothing.

And a big papier mache dragon
Sprawled lazily for a new year.

Fragrant harbor is now memoir
Inside Google earth’s summary.

An old nose smells current sea
With Bengal fish dead in smell,

As fragrances of memory fade,
Washed ashore , like dead fish.

(Hong Kong means Fragrant Harbor in Chinese)

Mothers and mothers-in-law

Inside bullock cart kids snuggled
On moms’ bellies, jellied in fears.

Wonder if ghosts were not afraid
Against the ghost mother bellies.

The ghost mamas were not afraid
Since they were cooking potatoes

In a wayside bush, on top of fears
Of ghosts when they were bodies.

The fears were of mothers in law
With the loud bodies under shout.

Clearing the fog

In the course of duologue
We hope to clear the fog,

By words fallen from face
Of who had come earlier

When you had not arrived
Nor were born as an idea.

The fog would come later
As crinkly eyes looked up

From your feet up to sky
A between there, the eyes

That had seen mountains
In their overwhelming fog.