Rue Americaine
I take a coffee
and plot out seven haiku,
streets named after birds.
Rue Africaine
A Congolese man
asks me how I choose my words.
I blink, say nothing.
Piscine d’Ixelles
A boy is beaming
in a bright red swimming cap.
Sun rays, ducklings, splash.
Marché du Châtelain
In the market square,
children rush a farm stand that’s
bursting with berries.
Cimetiere d’Ixelles
Two sleek purple crows
pick at an animal bone
and a broken egg.
Musee d’Art Fantastique
It is far better
to bypass the museum:
images come quick.
Global Power City
Be still. Can you hear?
All the world is sleeping now:
in Brussels, there’s snow.