My grandpa was eighty my grandma was twenty
She cried for years for the good life she was missing
She faced the wall until he finished his dying
Then she polished his bones for all of eternity
*
Throw my girl into the river she won’t drown
Like her mother and her mother’s mother
Stubborn reed hollow at both ends
She’ll whistle and hum and float into dawn
*
The man from Worcester wants to eat my sister
He bends her backward coats her in rice-flour
Pinches her corners calls her “sweet dumpling”
Fries her in deep oil then serves her on porcelain
*
His loveroot dangling before a crimson sac
His tresses long disheveled and raven black
My warrior my warrior mounting a tall horse
My thighbird is calling she wants you back