Two boys
each holding a rifle
are in a duel
putting the rifle under their chins
they compete to see
whose head will be blown off
by luck
one gets a tip from someone
tilt your head a little
the shots are fired
the one without tip
looks up
blood streaming from his skull
while the other
guiltily safe
- posted on 07/25/2007
Hutong
Walking in the hutongs of Beijing
I smell death and decay
A dirty cotton blanket
Dangling, hides a door
And a compound yard wide and empty
Like the womb behind the vagina
I used to live here, I say to my partner
Gripped by a feeling of alienation
Taking out my camcorder
I justify my presence there
Mouse tunnel
I see a mouse vanishing
Into a hole in the carpet
A hole as small as a finger
Touching the hole
I find it actually larger
It goes to a wall cabinet
And has another outlet
Somewhere else in the carpet
A cardboard full of bitten wounds
Stands disgustingly against the wall
I kneel down to inspect the floor
Struck by a rolling fleshy movement
under my knee
- Re: The duel (poem)¾ö¶·£¨Ê«£©posted on 07/25/2007
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