Spray of Anger

I am a spray of anger,
I am the extent of my beard,
I am two dark eyes,

I am the red of
dragon’s blood, a thick
belt of rage,

I am two boots
placed like a tenon joint,
creased up with power,

I am the thing
that lurks in Kurosawa’s
Hidden Fortress,

I draw you to
the Fireflies’ Grave that
twitches in the darkness,

I introduce you
to the Woman in the Dunes,
who lures you to her pit,

though almost a
Haiku, my brushstrokes
are not calm

and the kanji that
surround me
course with discontent,

Spray of Anger

there is a stamp against
my print, as red as I am -
if you think you can tame me

I am too large for that,
I am a Samurai without a sword,
I am a Shogun with no kingdom,

not a poet without words
or two many - which is worse?