Thursday Poem

Feng Shui
Bob Bradshaw

You stir fry your bok choy,
your Chinese mushrooms
and noodles. There
is no other pair of chopsticks
dipping into your pot.

Is the feng shui wrong?

Your mother advised you at 6
that if you get lost
don’t move.
Someone will find you.
Where is the husband
your mother promised?

Your luck will surely
turn. For the third time this month
you rearrange the furniture.
You hang wind chimes,
add plants. Nothing
must impede the flow

of Chi. You need harmony
in your life. Then
an old class mate calls.

He asks you out to dinner
where casually he drops the news:
He’s divorced, a recovering alcoholic.
Even bankrupt. But he’s blessed

with four teenage girls

who need a mother.

from: Apple Valley Review
Vol 2, No. 1 (Spring (2007)