Not Quite Monotony - Experimenting with Tankas

A man with dreadlocks

spoke warmly of pheromones,

stance nonchalant, wide

open; and I’ve heard tell that

true love smells like chocolate.

~

Courting sleep is a

long-distance romance: I touch

New York City, but

he breathes in London; just one

small white pill before bedtime.

~

Epiphany was

holding a pen, realizing

I had failed to count

syllables; knowing that my

mind depended on a form.

~

Eyes shot open in

shock, looking glace chortled as

spider froze on face;

and when did my life become

a morbid nursery rhyme?

~

Heart halts, veins pulse, palms

sweat, breath stops, jaw drops, voice cracks.

What’s going on here?

Heart pounds, veins burst, palms clench, breath

heaves, mouth swears. You are nothing.

~

Buried in feathers,

je n’ai jamais t’entendu,

bare-back, broken exposé.

Ton coeur est parti dans la nuit :

screen door slams, distant highway purr.

~

One hot venti white

chocolate peppermint mocha,

please, with a shot of

raspberry syrup; I need

to wake up to a sweet taste.

~

Je me souviens

the scent, our steps, cobble-stones;

la lune dont j’ai peur,

left for mourning – c’est ce qui

me manquera, ton cologne.

~

Moi, j’adore jouer

aux billes, jouer le jeu ; et

quand je peux, je joue

d’oreille ! Et quel mot est-ce que

je préfère? C’est ornithorynque.

~

Quelquefois, on doit

grandir avant qu’on ne

soit prêt – ne laissez

point tomber vos yeux ; ne perdez

point votre rire dans le sable.

~

Some evenings, resting

on snowflakes, mind left lost to

wander through meadows

misted with white, I break

and breathe, deep, just for you.