Kit Fan. Cumulonimbus
Halfway through my life
the reeds by Meguro River
where the ducks made love
stop whistling. I fear I’ve over-
inked, or the linseed oil
soured the sky. The wind
tastes of oysters grilled
over autumn soil.
A fish draws a ripple,
or did a raindrop win?
My papers will topple
the house before the tin
roof falls. I’d better make haste
and find a new address.
A long-legged fly by the watercress
skates upstream, brazen-faced.
What I need now, to change
the half-course of my life,
is to be struck by lightning
and survive it, like Hokusai.
