Roger Pao

After Separation

Water stains sink wider across the ceiling
to reveal a half-naked woman
she is a beached swan uncast in bronze
a nouveau taxidermy experiment
left rusting under the sun

her plumage is little insulation
against flash storms whose eyes
see her asleep in the bedroom darkness
now too often alone

roofers do not offer free estimates
on damage control
until the artifice of her voice crumbles
to its foundation
only then do they question her for insurance

neighbors say have you seen the loon
fastening garbage bags to her roof
with masking tape and wood glue
property devaluation being a fear among
the gossiping ears of suburban housewives

when she slipped and fell
to lay unmoved on her lawn
she quipped to the paramedics
who would later pronounce her dead:

our houses are like unwritten headstones
rowed into columns
forgotten in their uniformity
our houses mark the graves
of the living. 

Roger Pao studies at Duke University in Durham, North Carolina where he reads and writes poems and attends classes in his spare time. Born in Indiana, he is a first-generation Chinese-American trying to eliminate the stereotype that Asians are only good at math.

He has had work published in the anthology, A Moment to Reflect, for which he received an Editor's Choice Award, Footprints Magazine, and In the Grove Magazine. His work has also been accepted for future publication in Carpe Laureate Diem.

Email Roger at rcp@gumballpoetry.com

Want to see what reviews look like? Click here
Like this poem? Send this link to a friend