Ah, English. How you pilot your
ship in Asian waters. The hearth
under your mush-mouthed empire,
spelling countries as if chewing on a biscuit.
Thinking of San Francisco and watching my
nephew grow.
The wildness there is under your feet
(not over your head, child of midwestern plains),
shore saw grass, dunes, hills accreted on hills.
Darwin's waves lap even here.
If I'm there my chances of surviving
earthquakes may be less, but his
may be more.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
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