El hueco de una hormiga pueda llenar el aire1
pero tu vas gimiendo sin norte por mis ojos
The chill quickening
summons ancient ghosts
whose pain I long to taste
blossom of black gold
echoing the flue
of a night traveler
Xianren youdai cheng huanghe2
haike wuxin sui baiou
I dare not make a sound
in the bosom of your indfference
face to face I sit
conversing
with the unchanging river
I lend my ears to the wind
who would not hear a word
1 The emptied space of an ant can fil the air/ but you moan with nothing to guide you through my eyes --Federico Garcia Lorca
2 A Taoist immortal waits for a yellow crane to take flight/ A seafarer, willy-nilly, folows the white gulls --Li Bai(Po)
in our shaded nakedness
that's how a bum should
words are magin
we have swam
my hot tears
that's how we enter
a halfpulled scabbard
ars erotica
it's about surrender
like a bum
after a three-day
belt-tightening--
the unorthodox fasting,
running to the aroma
of a pot of oyster stew
or a pint of thick,
foamy brew...
we are all bums
and willingly
we let out
a beast cry
befor the ritual
in the thick-aired room
the spring palace
oblivious
preposterous,
the happiest bums we are
ummm, fuck,
hump and bump
the honest ploughman
seeding the dark soil,
the opening earth
under the deep digging
rut and the oldest song
hummed into
your ear
that's how we like it
bely down & belly up
while i teach you
the sweetest dirty
chinese words
yun & yu,
clouds and rain
meaning: two hungry
lovers becoming one
ancient and new
words we throw
into the fire:
you, the crazy pheonix
me, the our-of-sea dragon
and love could be made
when we surrender
to the remotest codes
of our savage tribes
& barbarian ancestors
....
from the humid nights
of a northern chineses city
to the salty smell
of oregon coast...
a pair of mandrin ducks
flirting with water &
that's how we like it
swimming and mating
like ducks,
the fluttering feathers
& the hooked slender necks
& boiling saliva
burning your vagina--
vagina envy
the whole city
is on fire
upward
heavenward
headlong
horses galloping
stars exploding
that's how we like it
a poem--
doggy style
like a bum can't wait
for the signal
from the benevolent
and that is what
keeps us from getting
buried alive.