from today, i’m gonna use chinese napkins for direction

bent low atop the table, lights dim,
he speaks half english and two-thirds chinese,
eyes slit, deep in concentration, pen in
wrinkled fingers, napkin way too small
to fit the drawing, but those ink blue lines
will take us out of Chinatown

& at least we know where we’re going after
wandering for quite a bit, the taste of beef &
shrimps blend with green tea & friendship,
reckless ticking of the clock, i

take the chopsticks, ReWiND, StoPTiME,
SWinG ’em in the cooking haze, a
magic wand, soaked with other world
spices, soy sauce & moments that

hang fragile on chinese lanterns, web-thin,
tumbling in the wind, ink drops, spilled
on parchment, on the streets we walked–
the owner (somehow feels a bit James Bond–)

holds the door, shows us to the corner
to ensure, we’re going in the right direction,
& i’m not quite sure– if we burnt the napkin
after reading– or if it’s forever hidden in
those pages, BReaTHinG– carrying the scent
between ancient & sliced fragments of today

.

join us over at dVerse where we will probably have no chopsticks and no chinese waiter but Joe Hesch, who is tending bar …doors will open at 3pm EST..