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Monte Fort | Travesa Sancho Pança | San Ma Lo | in front of red market |
Hac Sa: Yin yang musing | Taipa: Aubade | September (instructions) |
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Christopher Kelen
the paved hill lies in its fallen flowers there is a temple half way up where they¡¦ve painted the moss red higher the dragonflies guard air with infinite labours
from the acropolis the city is endless nor is it Macao every country¡¦s out there under the big top and every year the sun defeats
cicadas sharp in the Zhuhai haze where first the breeze is apprehended
spent breath of the tourists is mocked by those cats who sleep with the canons up here ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
small boy expecting dog to follow scooters rise piano beyond to take up the distance how long in this village may I remain anonymous?
the market will cleanse me of every desire ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
iniquitous lobbies darkest street of the day
the face of the jeweller about to be robbed
the brave man with gun or with girl
imagine the croupier rope bucket above us specie of all nations in there
today the rhythm of beggar¡¦s cups like horses¡¦ hooves
jackhammer behind me ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
loving the smoke and fuss of the town in a lucky red shirt on national day
I study the city like watching dough rise brick by brick
red postbox reminds me of the letter for which I have no stamp
red box on the bus for the quanta exacta I lack
red flag in its stars which no one can read
the red is for blood all plan not to spill
it¡¦s a red letter day today ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
eyes shut and under the birds lie the rocks only water can tell
it¡¦s out of their irresistible stubbornness each lends the other a form ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
a candle then a bird for light
kettle up against my sun
the bright soaks us from other days as if the night were cracked mere habit of haunting eyes
so thoughtless clouds stick unintending boats crossing too in their first clothes pale water holding up the dawn
a bridge the Bank of China casts a glittering stripe to bend the silver of my river to take the wheel¡¦s long bow ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ ¡@ |
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Christopher Kelen
dream fountains under dappled light oasis fruits crisp cloth on table better still clear water in glass unbreakable shade
wake bathed in the heat comes hammering still till rain nails everything down
pray for a breeze but not too hard
keep the bath first thing it takes you from dreaming reminds you to give gods thanks for the sea it stems the heaviness of noontide last cleanses you for night that you might dream fountains still water clear glass |
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