A fallen giant of imperial industry,
with a toe in every peasant’s backyard,
lonely, despite the people living in it.
Lost rocks of an empire
litter the expanse of its own domain
like an uncomfortable welcome mat.
If the stones … more »
Category:
Poetry
on the train i see my grandfather | as a young man
10,247 km of water | seven seats away
looking through his reflection | at darkened mountains and doubled stars
ye ye | but that’s not his name
should … more »
In the end, the chair has lost its owner.
The chair grinds out bad cells, the wind on the chair
is caught in the throat as it takes one final breath.
Nightmare finally over, never again will the … more »
the radio producers dilemma
driving my derelict mazda home after a shift
visors down to keep the electric sky from crashing my car
its 1246 and i hear myself on the radio talking about blind canadians
awareness … more »
speaking in tongues
misinterpretation ghosts-back,
attempts to reincarnate the broken language
of Jaden’s tongue-twist reverberation—
murmur the revenant-named co bac
mispronounce it twice as fast go back
diaspora synth-talk—
ghost-linguists mess up scrabble tiles—
v tn m s ngl … more »
My father is resting alone
beneath the sacred lights, while
I cradle in dismay, surrounded by
Elders coercing me to compose
and read him a eulogy at the altar.
His hands are cold, tender
yet embalmed. Mine are temperate,
condemning … more »
great macro swelling
carpet bomb ecosystem
broken off
broken twice off in say
one century of your time
slow fish peer up against
throbbing nights, fragile
glass bodies
a perception wholly in the form
of a short past’s
relentless abstractions… more »
i.
This is an exit
wound. This is your
butcher’s blade blunted
by naivety and the way
light floats atop
the surface, too polite
to settle.
ii.
This is a fence painted white.
iii.
From now on, I will be … more »
yeye says ‘pass the 醃黃瓜’ and i do, licking
the sour off my fingers. yeye points out the
steam from the fish stew and gestures with his hands,
mimicking a large cloud. yeye used to own
a general store in … more »
The year was 1969. I was ten
And carried a spiral notebook everywhere I went,
from the corner store to the diamond,
The whack of the bat, the way it connected
With the ball was my background, crackling,
Punctuation noise. … more »