translated by GLENN STOWELL

august 2nd

a cloud motors through the egg market

i come through the window
emerging like the sleeve of god

these dim passages
collect rain like loose change

i’m repaying steering

peddler hands open toward the roof
i’m jarred hypnotized world

august 12th

my quilt is a monster

august 27th

a plastic bag brims with wind
his face parked beyond the pane

i turn on the light a foreign verse:
they were right

august 29th

international repair day: i stop in a pile of wires

blue mistakes red mistakes
the 2nd floor has no light neither does the 3rd

i’m washed in the wake of electricity

september 15th

i drink tea drain the mind
this moment like a leaf
halted in the air

absorbing another’s failure

i rush toward these leaves this tree
this artificial lawn
finally it’sthesesmilescaughteverywhere

september 25th

in a dream of anger: a peach pared open
in the dream of a back: autumn wind gusts on

i beckon the body’s bee colony

i’ve explained a few dreams
they’re on the bed waiting for me

wetlands of honey a slice of quiet

october 25th

today the date tree is not a date tree

a few ice-cold arches
pass through the theatre like wind

i enter the elevator i’ve already lost
defeated once again

november 18th

i become my own caption
seaside i immerse myself in sand

sugar-sweet nightclubs

in the sea of radio waves the ocean’s corpse
ripples night after night

november 24th

an alien has no idea that it doesn’t exist

in winter we discuss literature
drinking hot tea eyelashes shroud themselves in steam

an alien like a sheet of scrap paper
slowly flys over the window toward Harbin

on cities I remember what de Balzac once said
without wind what use is the willow?