To a Dead Poet
   ........................
   
   
   Plainly stripped

   to the soul
   Quietly facing
   a mirrored wall
   drinking flattery
   like whiskey
   
   Tossing coin
   for friendship...
   suffer me a song!
   
   Poor little birds
   sing in the garden
   like naked dancers
   pulling thoughts together
   around the small
   treacherous pole called
   survival
   
   Fake eyelashes fake
   blonde fake tan fake
   voices all sound
   dear to the American
   dreamer
   
   Flowers open
   here & there
   unfriendly
   
   Goodbye dear!
   we bid farewell
   in twilight
   and that's how
   we survive
   
   
   
   
   ---ZuoZhou 2004