KOYOTO: On malfeasance and teenage angst

With quivers she doth turn my temples
in the valley into domiciles of dirt upon the peaks
and slopes of her curved breasts where i lay my head
and break with the dawn.

To be young and Japanese and adopted and unloved
and understood by few and under duress from so many
of those naysayers who have never held my hand
or hers or anyone else's; they don't know my taste.

So real the colors, spot larking woo-ha.