10/8/10

To That Shy Butterfly Maya at the Last Poetry Reading
By Lee Minh Sloca


1 – one-thousand 2 – two-thousand 3 – three-thousand



As you breathe in to speed greet me,

I’ll earn my turn for five minutes

to recite what fires this talking heart;

so lighten your eyes, even if slightly,

for I’ve quested my dictions to sing you these:



I could’ve mapped out the trapping to writings,

but I wouldn’t find the dearness in your goodness.

I could’ve lounged on mounts of paperwork,

but I wouldn’t find a scent to your candor.

I could’ve shouted beyond a doubt about poetry,

but I wouldn’t find the symphony in your simple smile.



Now that I have infused you with such musings,

I hope, not this reading, but the re-listening,

will I stir you with the pearls of my purring:

the spectrum of best, worst, and everything in between.

Till at last, time and fine rhyme will bind us:

First word, first sentence: sunrise prizes -

I will strum your hair and sum them on pages.

Second word, second paragraph: midday frays -

I will catch your eyelashes and latch them into verses.

Third word, third chapter: evening lingers -

I will trace your lips and race home for kisses.

Only then, can we embrace each others’ space

and grit the speed of this searching earth.



4 – four-thousand 5 – five-thousand 6 – six-thousand





- - -
Lee Minh Sloca escaped Vietnam two weeks prior to its collapse. After college, he worked for 14 years with special needs children. After campaigning for Obama in the ’08 election, he is currently seeking works that will align with the President’s philosophy of community. Lee lives in Los Angeles, CA.