Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Poems by Carol Jenkins   In This In this Venetian room        a velvet tiger of morning light lies across my breasts, and stripes my thighs,       dispensing with clothing the stripes persist and I am tribal with the    scarification of light.   The Floating World I. She is playing polo in the Tang dynasty - fist tight, her head turned hair swept up in an elegant comma, suddenly she shouts Yiah Yiah, who has turned my horse to clay? II. Kesa Gozen combs the water from the long wave of her black hair, toes just edging out from the pool of kimono around her feet III. Hair clustered with daggers, Oto Nanpo's courtesan studies the letter, what does it say that her curved fingers so intensely hold her white face? Next Poem
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