Marilyn Chin


Get Rid of the X

My shadow followed me to San Diego
silently, she never complained.
No green card, no identity pass,
she is wedded to my fate.

The moon is a drunk and anorectic,
constantly reeling, changing weight.
My shadow dances grotesquely,
resentful she can't leave me.

The moon mourns his unwritten novels,
cries naked into the trees and fades.
Tomorrow, he'll return to beat me
blue — again, again and again.

Twenty Five Haiku

A hundred red fire ants scouring, scouring the white peony

Fallen plum blossoms return to the branch, you sleep, then
harden again

Cuttlefish in my palm stiffens with rigor mortis, boy toys can't

Neighbor's barn: grass mat, crickets, Blue Boy, trowel handle,
dress soaked in mud

Iron-headed mace; double-studded halberd slice into emptiness