Routes to My Heart

Carrie Chang

Circumambulatory routes

About the hood, where

Daisies thrive, in olden times

Of sometimes soot, and walks

Will take you this way and that,

Past shitzu trails, and the oyster cat,

You’ll see four-leaf clovers, & a journeyman’s hat.

The runners! The runners! Like sun-bummers! & the caltropa

Like a witness to this hand, which withers

With time in the open air where a sproggle of geese

Honk their solitary tune; zen-tunes

Of infinity grace, and the tallest pine tree

Which faced east like a green dystopian

World of forgotten letters, alpha-weather

On the grey runny lines of strange words

Conjured up from dreams

In blue sheba bathtubs, and high-chairs ,

Emerald toques and brambleberry

-Scented tennis shoes

Which shingle against

The bronze q-mud and wont

For nothing, nothing

Being regal and demented

As a lonesome fish,

Fish the sub-zero efforts

Of a people clothed

In silk and leather,

Seeing that summer-time

Is sometimes

Just a feather