and here you come— a cricket’s dance in the woods— in a fog-colored zoot suit

Soak in a hot bath; 

arrange my futuristic hair, 

then, the futon & the cushioned tatami. 

Cut orchids, cut fruit. 

Set the table for plenty, 

(but there is only one of me). 

And here you come— 

a cricket’s dance in the woods— 

in a fog-colored zoot suit. 

Your eyes are red & bleary. 

I am practicing good purity. 

I do not get angry. 

But here comes my father with the tiger’s claw. 

He paces and frets; I get no rest. 

The caged animal must be released. 

 

Here comes my mother with the serpent’s touch. 

I know the dim mak: the touch of death, 

I know the softness of the temples, 

the groin, the heart. 

 

Here come my sisters with the lizard’s tongue 

to expel the secret in a moment’s hiss. 

But they are slow on their haunches. 

I shall strike first. 

 

The weir-basket was a snare; 

the fish within were dying. 

You promised me fresh fish. 

You promised unconditional love and 

providence. 

 

Here comes my brother with the ox’s heart 

to explain the world in a plum’s pit. 

He is not your kind. 

You don’t understand his plight; 

nor does he your fomenting silence. 

Tiger’s claw, serpent’s touch, lizard’s tongue, ox’s heart. 

The caged animal is released. 

I believe in the touch of life. 

I shall keep my secret always. 

Although you have lost your way, 

you have never forsaken me. 

you have been whole. 

you have been good. 

 

[Marilyn Chin {1955- } 'Ode to Anger', from Dwarf Bamboo]