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By Brian Christopher Jaime

“Consider me
As one who loved poetry
And persimmons”
–Shiki

As one who loved
Poetry and persimmons
Pomegranates and prose

Who visited
Keats’ nightingale tree
And Freud’s couch

Who stayed
Long after winter storms
Struck spirit with lightning

Who traveled
Beyond starry dusted night
To speak with spirits

Who survived
The prick and peril
Of the provokers pike

Who rose
Not from clichéd ash
But from papery embers

Who wrote
Down every word
On lined parchment

Who seduced
Your very soul to squander
Its sentiment on one

Who gave
Of himself
Everything

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