Some Looks
There are some looks
which never fade though
a million memories pass
looks which sharply
cut into marrow
of a fragile soul
seeking some solace
Such a keening glance
the old papa-san shot me
which passed clean through
shaking me asunder soul-shocked
making mush of all
my grunt lustful desires
as he sat
long wispy-bearded
silver-haired balding
in carefully laundered
black pajamas
with thin-curved long pipe
wafting home-grown herb
about his wizened stoic face
He didn't miss
a methodical thatch
of conical basket
while his granddaughter
I suppose and I
strolled arm-linked
through the dappled courtyard
into a dark bead-curtained cubbyhole
where in tight sequined mini-skirt
so alien from long-flowing demure ao-dai
she would allow herself to be raped
for a $5.00 MPC-note by me
one other white devil
of another foreign army
exploiting pillaging destroying
their hallowed ancestor-sprited land
in the name of freedom
Spring 1992
Islip, NY
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