(and the powers gone out)
awake i am lost
in this dense borneo
in shrill cicada racket
in a dream on a boat
down a humid vessel
thru tropical guts
biting only
ripe words
mango vowels
mr. big nose (proboscis)
the flash metallic blue
kingfisher
and all of surrealistic fruit
greengreen soup
and swiftlets
slicing a sluice
thru the thick atmosphere
in the backwoods black
by an unfamiliar bungalow
whoop whoop and the wobbly
fellows are juggling
their primitive jungle melodrama
just outside the window
and i am strangled
dangling rapt
in cotton sweat and
man that medley sounded real
hanging
by the stillness of the ceiling fan
i hear the echo of the gecko
batik painting
surreal
abstract
traditional
wrap sarong around volcano
smell of linen
smell of clothing poem
when she left
her linen aroma
behind
on her side of the bed
on my clothes