Tim Yu
Six Postcard Poems
2/8/07
Boo Hoo Bunny
I am a boo hoo bunny.
Symmetrical tears are poised
like rouge beneath my off-
kilter eyes.
I think I am holding my heart
behind my back. When I squeeze
it nothing happens.
The little button at my neck
pulses like a vein.
postcard from ArtUnlimited.com
2/11/07
Just Like the Ones in a Zen Temple
A room is a kind of
indoor moon. It
reflects back only
what shines on it.
Seat yourself and
close your eyes. It
makes no sound that
you can see.
2/17/07
Memorial to the Idea of Man If He Was an Idea
Hey! You can’t
talk to me that way.
I’ll open my strong-
arm latch and feelings
will come falling out.
Meanwhile my
hands keep my
sides from splitting
as my brain
rises, globe-like,
from the fortress
of my skull.
2/18/07
Breathe Friendly
instead of brushing.
Just before “studying”
a British hottie.
Walking home
after nap in class,
a psych asks to borrow
your notes. “At
library,” you say.
“Tick tock.”
2/24/07
I Pluck from Days Already Past
the aroma of a cup of green
tea from a see-through pot.
A layer of snow is covering
everything, but I can just recall
how it was when we first
read from right to left.
I pull a card from the middle
of the stack. I am small
and half empty; the sun
is rising for the 18th time.
2/27/07
Pink Like…
a pair of scissors,
a sharpened blade.
Look up. If you think
that’s pink you’ve got
another thing coming.
The skin inside my
clenched fist. A
spray of insulation
across the snow.
Every princess sitting
in her own row
with her own fire
helmet. Something
I saw once,
then forgot.
