Chi and The Art of Kawasaki Ninja Investments
By Christopher J. Bradley
They've tried to put me into reform school a couple of times.
I enjoyed the experiences immenslely
The fights over cigarettes
The stolen silverware
The whole shebang.
But I took a lesson from Chingachgook and the like
In silence to take my time
And in loudness to hammer the target with the whistling arrow.
They think you are stoppable when you move with slow feet
But they don't consider the weight too often.
Three hundred and sixty pounds creates a lot of momentum
A light car weighs only fifteen hundred.
And so I am a walking freight train
A wordmith with keys that lay down like hammers in the forge.
My sword will fit the gloved hand of a Marine
As well as it will fill that of any rogue poet.
I am going to rise above the curse of Hamlet
As I have a steel horse and he didn't
And take my Ninja to the edge
Of the envelope containing the Scrabbled market whips
Unending strips of ticker tape
Beneath my toes
And the Iron Cage
Is truly made of little more than balsa.
For under the Osaka sky
There is a young girl
Who rides at sunset
Into the Banzai of a Chinese New Year
Her palm pilot hugging her leathered breast
With a screen flickering
And the Horizon falls behind her
While the rest of the world
Stuck in a UK panic
Wages war for her kind of freedom
And my name
Escapes her lips
In a warm embrace…