stillness of Ukiyo-e.
I unwillingly enter the floating world
as if I might translate
there
the sublime
language of Kuniyoshi.
Regard the perfectly arched ark ed curve
each fine black hair
convicted to the order of bonsai.
The way the follicle arrives to skin
committed to it’s own architecture
resign me?
Lay me to waste upon
the irascible perfection
of their design.
