no gawking
at the gawkers
while you walk
down a narrow alley
with safe graffiti
turned to shit
by michael shulson
tastes great chef
the older of the two
men slapping that wok
for the happy hour crowd
dog-beating sautéing
i thought to myself
tongue out nearly
glazing the girl with fire
there's no room here
for all this dead weight
that's filling up
on Asian puns
with rinds
this woman
is staring at me
like i've just landed
