Feng Shui

When the bridge between east
and evening lies down to die

and the rain drops as freight
unevenly among the doomed,
I decorate my mind with drapes,

untie the silk ropes and tassels
that cinch them back

and appoint my room with jewels
looted from the later dynasties.
I am among immortals!

Still, there’s just so much
one soul can rearrange.

Also the river tires of coursing.
And the earth gets fed up
wth the burdens put on furniture.

When like most of us
the clouds have had enough
of bunching up and sundering,

I get on my bike,
circle three times the ditch
identified as best for resting

and fall asleep
head first.