My grandpa was eighty    my grandma was twenty
She cried for years    for the good life she was missing
She faced the wall    until he finished his dying
Then she polished his bones    for all of eternity 

*

Throw my girl into the river    she won’t drown
Like her mother    and her mother’s mother
Stubborn reed    hollow at both ends
She’ll whistle and hum    and float into dawn 

*

The man from Worcester    wants to eat my sister
He bends her backward    coats her in rice-flour
Pinches her corners    calls her “sweet dumpling”
Fries her in deep oil    then serves her on porcelain 

*

His loveroot dangling    before a crimson sac
His tresses long    disheveled    and raven black
My warrior my warrior    mounting a tall horse
My thighbird is calling    she wants you back