headcold fog
red light
dripping nose
no connections
sleep-starved
to bed
headcold fog
red light
dripping nose
no connections
sleep-starved
to bed
charm
by the gas station
incense changes my mood
the little red shrine has been visited
and offerings made
candles flicker and a thin trail of smoke
from the glowing sticks
matches a flow of good will and energy
flames give movement, life
to the unnamed warrior guarding
this otherwise nondescript
strip mall
slaying inattentiveness
an excess of green
the guide apologizes
jungle is excessively green
unlike the riot of orchids
in the plot next door
the garden’s ex-director demanded
color be planted
the remnant rainforest salted
with invasive exotic hues
that’s the simple thinking
of someone who fails to notice
the bronze of a leaf’s underside
rosy blush of a baby blade
seafoam against grey of ebony bark
lemon of a leaf just littered on the floor
now the fiery red splotches
ignorantly planted in the forest
signal wounds we made
by not loving green enough
American underneath
in Singapore I realize
the great raft of western goods
the currents shipping lanes trading routes
have pushed into this harbor
surely includes my favorite underwear
amazingly I easily secure one new
turquoise-grey-and-white striped pair
to offset the blue-and-green-polka-dot ones
that just this week succumbed to a small extra hole
victims of the rigors of handwashing and wringing
despite the changes in diet language attire greetings
for now
I’m blessed to keep
familiar underthings
manufacturing nature
it is necessary
Singaporeans feel
to move water from the sea
stack it in a column
high in the air
then let it thunder down
into a vortex
ringed by Burger Kings
and Prada shops
and to build grotesque metal trees
with flashing lights
broadcasting Disney show tunes