48 Wensdy S-b -ay2,21 hc ttm

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I dreamt I was a dragon last night
Andyouwere a princess
Don't worry, I didn't eat you
But I didn't save you either
I didn't stop you from braiding your hair
-To let in a boyI knew would steal your heart
[and yoYg allet and vinyl records
I'$ sorry about that, but iTunes exists now. Let it go.]
4 snatch y ur shoe from the staircase
Aifrom coming after you
ourbeat-up converse would detract any man
B onfused desperate for hopelessly devoted
orr theystuck to the gum-ridden stairs
rnd I'msorry he let you down
hen a boy showed up with a talking tea set
And I culd have breathed fire athim
I longangry streaks
But Ist yed quiet
Becau I was taught that only love can break a curse 1
e I mad he brokeyourheart
B reall Ijustean't believe he took our ottoman
assh>ed likeapuppy
!Iyeofwaiting
arinp ce to come save you
And~lidblId if I could but I can't
dIcause m a dragon
nd we e t people, we don't love them
rsav em or marrythem
Tirit if could
Iwould romise to never steal your records
And pre nd that The National sounds better on CDs
And I Idtreasure your shoes
~ever your foot size orbra size
o dnt or ue you
nd I Id nev steal the furniture
r lock uinad geon
o rosp Id lose its petals
throw e storybook
And I'll a p ifyou will
1k dragon can't turn into a prince

DUST &
London, 1945.
The war was over.
He walked along the border of Regent's Park
with his hands tucked in his trouser pockets.
It was dark already, but then, it had never been
light - a thick fog hovered around the street-
lights, nestling close to the ruins of what had
once been the aviary of the London Zoo. It was
not the first time that he had walked this way,1
but every day it was a challenge. Before the war,
he had set himself goals for each morning: run
the circumference of Hyde Park, run from St.
Paul's to Grosvenor Square and back. Now he
had set the no-less heroic goal of walking past
the London Zoo, calmly and without thought.
Someday, perhaps, he would manage it. The
remains of the building were only brick and
mortar, but he smelled sulfur and manure and
something musky that made his stomach turn.
HIe longed for a drink to settle it, but it was only
three in the afternoon. Too early for a pint, even
by London's standards.
He turned up the collar of his coat. The wind
blew cold, hinting at snow somewhere past the
Tower, biding its time across the Thames. He
pudged a crumbled piece of brick with his toe,
ing the pressure of destruction against his
ot. It must have been an amazing sight, when
Germans dropped the air-raid bombs on
viary. Flashes of gold and red and orange
he fireworks on Bonfire day, pinpricked
o h with the jewel tones of exotic feath-
e -rald and turquoise and violet. Feathers
ted the dust, driftwood and seaweed
ne alo y the tide. Feathers, riding like tiny
ts witho passengers along the Thames to
ea.
ere were n bright colors left in London.
ot-cover arrows and battle-scarred
mbled ac s the streets under the
rgingtheir ungon the smoke. And
s that occupie Trafalgar square like
uddling togeth ,speaking in rapid
ages abo places and peo-
ind thecu in of fire and
er he longe kick them
yere, atop
e , ngesame
, s aking
nt

t. ,
GCSR
FLOWEI C F

fat bunches
-perumed- very sweetsm
colored -kinde f squat
small and squat Very,\ in e rai
bows when weighed down by
-water- -r- a-H-
rainwater
kisied-my-forehead- lives
on Cass Ave. by the-
kissed my forehead as i walked
by -i-g,4wet-
lives on Cass Ave. across
from caf6 with best tuna melts
not far from home -two--menth-heoe-
-hoeme- home i....O.l ,#4g Wet
home
i plucked
a fat bunch and gotwet
from rainwater spraying off
very sweet smelling
cream-colored petals which I held
to my cheeks and it felt so lovely.
Can you please-
this tree-
I miss it.
L V -r

it \
N
N.
N
- N

Dirt holds my head up and after I gauge the prog-
ress
I grab hold of the forsythia's bottom and pullup.
I thinkaboutturnips
and how they look like noses and how
at the farmer's market this girl held my hand
once.
Once, when I was five, I learned who god was
supposed to be.
Is?
The green onions are sprouting;
I hope I don't forget about them.
I break off a sprig andechew on it.
It tastes good and I remember when
the jungle gy ' myneighbor's bas t
punched myn the stoinac
pungent.
Zubin's bI e has ent en h was here we
foughta ut" cup.
S yaci h fl ers do tsmell vysweet.
like la-veC1
Aicsun *sh- ows of b' hes
as crai- ut f be ' urple rows.
pmkh a a e I"wss an remember
w I v ould istle it like my friends.
learn a out angels then, but a year later
I felt funny when an old lady gave me a cherry
cough drop and said that I was one.
and god threw his hands down and dug them into
theground
uprooting tiny humans
and planting gardens of angels

over the
could stil