Politics

Forgiveness is not a forgetting

of all things

suffocating the civilization between us.

After tornados flattened the town

it would be a choice to sit in the ditch with you,

if we can find one to hold us both

better to be uncomfortable there, than whatever this is

but I imagine that ground very hard

when we are used to soft sofas and easy chairs

so many liked where we lived then.

It would be a choice to start over

the authors of your story making deliberate edits

sifting through the remains to find the bones

making room for more

giving some piece over

to a new keeper of memory

of dreams

ideals

yet to be realized.

 

 

 

 

 

Cross-Cultural Communication

Three flights up in a temporary room

just a slim chance to get it right

corner windows, streaked brown by the air of industry

resist the summer sun’s pursuit of my attention

coming up hot

everyday as it does, again and again

a daily chime from a clock upside down

reminding me reality is relative

 

Below, an atom of a city, vibrating all night where

swarms of scooters mimic starlings

 

above, glass towers rise as 21^st century temples

to impress and reflect

another Forbidden City

reminding the people who they were

who they are becoming

the new emperors

 

While these officials flex their politics wearing white gloves to mask the filth

the neighborhood shopkeeper smiles

happy to exchange paper for cheap beer and ice cream bars

 

ours is a street diplomacy with

the people’s peace a loose butterfly net

catching our nationalism unawares and stuffing it in a jar

once contained, we don’t know what to do with it

 

a young woman sees the foreigner caught in another downpour,

wordlessly, she is at her side like a sister

an umbrella pops up sweetly

as if kindness is a currency

 

How do I repay you after such a small act in a world devoted to catastrophe?

Maybe we could continue this conversation in gestures since words have failed us

 

somewhere in the dissonance

there is an on-ramp

but I have to be paying attention to find the right road

this isn’t a job for old maps

 

what I think matters less

it was how you made me feel that I remember the most.