#1

Her cold fingers: the bones

in my body brittle, like the morning.

What do I do when I’m not thinking? Love,

let’s not trouble each other with such questions.

Three people in the bus. Almost 7:14: where

have all the Okanagan flowers gone?

Inside the theater: you passed through me, a train

over the bridge. I trembled, like the song.

Tonight I’ll worship your softness: my face

pressed against your belly, slowly melting.

#2

One more coffee for the road. Maybe a smoke

isn’t such a bad idea on a midday burn.

How does it feel to destroy someone’s life? Ask

the activist, hammering at the keyboard at midnight.

Advice to young writers? Don’t be

a dick. The literary world is infested with such kinds.

An English major? she exclaimed at a party,

before deciding to flirt with the FortisBC guy.

To be a poet is to find beauty in wildflowers.

Says who? Somebody who doesn’t like flowers.

#3

I’ve come from a faraway land. Show me

what it means to be rooted, O ponderosa.

Think of a ghazal as a mad dog, yapping

at the wrong cedar in quick successions.

Thousands of miles away, I fix

dinner: rosemary crackers & some wine.

I dream of the writer who fought lions, drank

too much, and blew his head off: a perfect life.

I watch cat videos, listen to Joe Rogan,

and feel absurd. Am I a modern-day Socrates?

#4

All day I’ve been cutting boxes boxes boxes:

a rhythmic premonition, a poem-awakening.

What’s up with so many Punjabis here? She says,

before handing me a UBoat full of candies.

I learn by going: on the cusp

of boredom & exhaustion, my unfettered soul.

Ease & clarity: things I care;

opacity and toil: things I strive for.

Eyes of half-asleep Buddha:

the dancing soul of Shiva.

#5

I have an inkling, of your slow-footed

approach—love shall find me at last.

Some days I’m fine. Some days I’m dandy.

I struggle to be both on Monday mornings.

How and why do these come to me? Especially

when I’m on a sidewalk, awaiting a smile.

At A&W, I asked for an egg-and-cheese sandwich:

she nodded, the name tag shining, Chadani.

Ghosts of Shahid & Thompson. Who knows

how to fight better, with fists and stones?