Maw Shein Win

A bed with softer animals

It is raining.
It is Tuesday night.
There are 36 steps up to Alan’s apartment on the East Side.
A bed with softer animals.
A doberman pincher walks into a 7-11 and buys a carton of milk.
I notice these things.

Rain waters the buildings and they grow and grow.
Makes thieves work harder.
Softens mountains.
Ruins sandwiches.

Some paintings make me cry.
I Like Crying.
Gunsmoke was a good show to cry to.
Also, the Waltons’ Christmas Special.

Alan is reading about cannibals in New Guinea.
The cannibals average at five feet tall.
They roast their dead for 30 days then bury them in the jungle.
Alan told me it rains more in the jungle, but I knew that already.

What I don’t know is how lightning feels on the body.
Or what makes a glow worm glow.
Or why the neighbor keeps knocking his head against the wall.

Let us be young again!

1.   Touched by an ankle.
2.   The scud missile, the buttercups, the long lost relatives.
3.   A woman walks into the library. She carries three plastic bags. In one, pearl onions.
In another, a half-knit poncho. In the third, a book on Sufi masters.
4.   He pulled a long thin worm from the soil, moist and unforgiving.
5.   Let us be young again!
6.   He had to admit that his amnesia was a detriment to his “emotional” and “psychological”
7.   The typewriter sits in the corner for god knows how many months. You watch it smirk.
Black teeth.
8.   Safety is overrated.
9.   Guardar ao abrigo da luz, calor e unidade.
10.   The deer of Nara, the ferns of Kamakura.

About the author

12.4 (Summer 2008)   The 2River View