Daniel Langton

Look into the world of the woman
in the Japanese Tea Garden
and you will see…

The girl so young
she needn’t wear a blouse,
looking out to where
the shore is rumor.

The biggest doll
a pretty young woman
naked before a camera,
an essay in geometry.

And then the mother
sleeping on her side,
soppy nipple falling
like a tropical idea
into the energetic mouth.

The lover, reflection in her eyes,
putting on her shirt for her,
not buttoning it.

This is the woman
in the Japanese Tea Garden
at tea time
holding a mammogram
a letter from the king.

The carp swim.
Aimlessly, as we say,
but we are not carp.
The woman walks in figure-eights
along the man-made edges
of the fishes’ world.
 
 
 
 
 

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