b – > b

in the orange gleam of towers, concrete, metal banister, peter pan collars
shades of gray the boys and girls they stand at bay, ticks on their feet
or three stripes, or 5 point stars, everyone they loved near and far, long distance,
a checklist: frequent flyer, their six plus figure empires, snide eyes in hallways
and frivolous spending        fourteen     fifteen        sixteen
like royal city avenue and milled rice,  another afternoon in mbk
last take off 4500 miles away,   ice on shoulder-arm-elbow-wrists—fingers fisted
in that order.    saving grace.          too many
expat families with broken daughters on the brink of saving ship her to the
white man’s land
teach her sharper tongues and give her steel between skin, true or falsified
it’s okay, they tried,    they dream of  hearty blood and warm insides, untouched
“gosh,
we really fucked up huh”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s