A man crafts the smallest sushi in the world
from one grain of rice
a tiny piece of nori
wrapped around a shred of sea urchin
He says a woman cried for over an hour
when she saw the small sushi, it was just so cute
The ratio indicating the relation of the duration
of weeping to the size of the sushi
is bewildering
Sometimes I can’t tell if my neighbor upstairs is crying
As I listen to her outpouring I try to discern
whether it’s giddy giggling or lament
I change my mind every few minutes
Her state of excitement is perhaps both
I think she must wonder this about me too sometimes
Should you punch a Nazi yes or no
Should you punch a girl sitting on a bar yes or no
If you are the girl sitting on the bar, will you laugh when you tell the story
about how a guy you didn’t even know walked up and punched you
I turn over my lipstick and look at the label
all this time I’d been reading “red amour” as “red armor”
I suppose that more than amour I needed armor on my mouth
If you are the girl sitting on the bar should you punch the guy back
In the 1960s the Viet Cong guerilla girls who came to visit Chile
looked like angels says the artist whose glasses read VERDAD
Some were snipers and officers, some were spies
Around here, you can’t make a sound without someone seeing it
