August 26, 2012 
2005 was also a slow year on thedaysman, and I only posted in 3 months—a pattern I kept up for three years.
But one unusual thing that year was some poetry. My dad once introduced me to a waitress as his son “the poet.” It was a high compliment. But probably unfounded, given the rate of my poetic productivity.
But here, from two different posts that year, are two poems. One posted in June just after I was on a trip to China. And one written after I got my first iPod in March.
Not much other poetry on thedaysman, but there is a sonnet cycle that starts here.
“Poems” is two syllables where I come from, by the way.
________________________________________
Night train
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden.
From The River Merchant’s Wife
Translated by Ezra Pound
artemisdreaming.tumblr.com
past city lights,
past country fires,
the train to Xi’an
snakes haltingly
through deep tunnels
past terraced fields
and ancient bridges.
I imagine you, waiting,
in a smooth silk robe
like the merchant’s wife
in an old poem.
But you are pressed by duty
and clothed with care,
and have no time
for butterflies.
iLove
It took nine days
For my iPod
to get here from China.
Our love is like that,
As inefficient as FedEx on a bad day,
As absudist as a playlist with
Blackeyed Peas and Gregorian Chants.
Where is the Love?
In the ear pod.
On the hip.
It’s everywhere you want to be–
The VISA to my soul.
Swipe my heart
And let’s dance.
write more poetry, Wally.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
A poet and a philosopher.