Konrad Lembcke photo
By
Jules Henderson
The Lady or the Tiger
outside, allies flash bright feathers
from the field collapsing chimneys
with their big-boy bombs
pressing down firmly on unforgivable
eyes fixed on a raised flag
above shame’s debris
inside, a little girl licks honeyed paper
with a hungry tongue
her index finger pressing down gently
on possible
eyes fixed on quivering lips
beneath deceit’s brow
empty promises are dead bodies
resting against the rubble of collapsed buildings
in Nanking
in Hiroshima
in Sarajevo
in Syria
in the end
only prostitutes and poets
remain standing
left to discover who
amongst ourselves
initiated attack
we will move through cocktail parties
spinning stories, asking
was it the lady or the tiger? [1]
until we find ourselves standing before
two closed doors, living our way
to the answer
[1] In Frank Stockton’s short story, “The Lady or the Tiger,” 1882, a barbaric king establishes a harsh form of punishment for criminals. When a young man of the court is caught romancing the king’s daughter, he is sentenced to choose between two doors. Behind one door stands a beautiful lady and behind the other a fierce tiger ready to maul him to death. The story ends on an ambiguous note, as Stockton leaves the reader to guess the young man’s ultimate fate.
Capture This
Wild jasmine and gardenia arrest the senses,
and the shores of Haleiwa are crowded with cliff-diving natives.
Rain cascades down walls of molecules that hide themselves in sun rays;
we are heathens but we breathe in their mana, assuming it is ours to claim.
(Still, this is not appropriation)
Sleet grey lava stone whispers prophecies to cherry hibiscus:
Next year at this time the water will be too toxic to drink.
In the sand, our fingers mimic Cezanne’s strokes to capture this fleeting moment—
why is life a canvas only
to those who bow
humbly to the heart?
Pele either creates or destroys; she does not preserve.
We take our cues from her to fashion our days
and dance like sphinx inside plumerias in search of wine.
Jules Henderson
Jules Henderson is a Writing MFA candidate at the University of San Francisco where she studies under D.A. Powell, Bruce Snider, Brynn Saito, and Rachel Richardson. Her work has appeared at the Paradise Review, Bookends Review, The Social Poet, The Drunken Odyssey, and in Words Fly Away, a collection of poems that address the 2011 Fukushima disaster.
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