English, a foreign mistress,
gives me misty eyes
as I write in anguish.
I, a word apprentice,
thwarted by time's passing,
pine to be a poet.
Words, lost in translation,
are empty spaces in between,
as I compose my poem.
February, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst
A Room of My Own: Stock Ticker Tanka
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*Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words*, CCXCVI: "stock ticker "
a bruised girl’s hand
clutches a slice of bread
in pixels—
a stock ticker flashes past
...
