Lemon flowers and lotus ponds, temples
on the corner, turndown service, chocolates:
these are the reasons I go away sad.
The ocean weaves a foam carpet and stars
watch sand pounded into butter frosting.
Castles drip from my hands like Dali clocks,
red ants march up the sun-blasted stucco
towing a dead bee. Rambutan, starfruit,
jackfruit, durian: as soon as I eat
I am asleep. The hotel soft opens
and I flit inside the happy cushioned
coffin of escape. The birds sing open
my mourning window and at night’s first hint:
tokay, tokay, tokay, tokay, tokay,
tokay. The gecko speaks the simple truth.