(an older poem from my website. Richard Zola's response poem was posted on the site with his permission)
You of the matted beard,
watermelon snack-juice leaking
from half open lips as you sleep.
Do you dream of golden bird claws
drifting through silent rooms,
lovers' heavy bosoms hanging
over stained bathroom sinks?
Do your bracelets clink as you turn,
restless from London's noisy heat?
A bubble from your head
spills heiroglyphs into my hand,
the afterbirth of an emerging poem.
Dedicated to Richard Zola, a London poet.
an approximate return
there is more than one ring
on each of your fingers
14 bracelets on your arms
there are circles in the lake
around wild floating birds
this is the 1st city you saw
here you left fingerprints
now you read street signs aloud
and guide me
through translated conversations
to this place
where your teeth are often visible
and you laugh
at the promiscuity of daisies
by Richard Zola