i
father’s dead; leave the cup by his eyes made of plums made of
fruit trees fed with wasp venom made of
spot juice mingled into the blood
from his ulcer,
from his wherever
i’m
not sure that he was thinking when he did this,
I
mean, christ, what is this magic or oujia
two sips are
you sure you’re a doctor, too long and his heart
is
becoming a snake, a turtle,
from this, from this:
China
– 1. between the cup and the water in it the cup or the water in
an
engineer sipping coffee and dicing his eggs
with
an automated slice maker,
2. he thinks the last train left five minutes
ago, so what
are we going to do, he’s hungry, he’s foreign,
fucking gone native like, Jesus h;
we’ve got to wait, got to make him
eat or into someone who can find trees
an echo of the gardens at menjing
garden where he cut off his pinky cutting wood
into the stems of fruit trees
(or youth days
where no bird
no beer no hush no bright-
eyed wife tattooed into his
legs, a child)
up the bileduct, up the pits of oranges and
lemons where up the huangjian
they grew
babies
up fruit trees
fed with wasp venom jammed stings swollen
up in May when he wakes up
dreaming of ruined plums and smiles from a woman
who blushed with blood.
ii.
black
's-3anglelike
's-brother a)crouched
under the
's-it's-of; bath’s
waterline
glass. unmaking himself skinless
white
's-3anglelike
's-finch with
shy hands searching
's-it's-of; for
a judas bone
vanity, until
the boughs of his arms
black
's-3anglelike
's-snakes hung
and plunged
's-it's-of; as
simple as swimming – like
garden
yellow.
's-3anglelike he thought he could
's-startline; turn
's-it's-of himself
out, from inside
‘s
b)alone in the garden; leave the riverlip overflowing in water to make
–'s bibles
from the softpith of plum saplings bleached orange
yellowsquare the
same way a tango is spilt down the
in-among subway
yellowsquare escalator,
the fizzy – goddamn
in-among it
all, everything you used to believe
yellowsquare was
automated, bread slicers and blood are really
–'s broken
like plum cysts below
skin.
iii.
And now honest to god I think
this is how it is :china
‘s
– place on a
map + water + concrete + fish – gulls – coral – fish or the
fisherman
as plumesmog becomes a god, who I
imagine with
eyes like orbits flooding in politic
pairs,
(lucky) twin girls linking on and
into the meat on the link meaty
with dreams
I
washed from my body,
the snake didn’t stop moving,
belly down
past ashes of yellowgold and
oranges drawn up to my skidmarked knees.
where the
snake
made fruit venom for more and
it(
c.iwasthroatupankleup
d.kept me as a baby
e.a whale/fuck quietly)
opened up.