Crossing CentralPlains 

Train cuts across GreatEarth
Ripened sweet corn has taken in sunlight 

Long-months-long-years
They make themselves as seed
Countless times they lie down
Then they make themselves as food
Countless times climbing up
They grin just like I grin
Mouths full of yellow teeth
Without a single gold filling   



Nanjing

Fine rain drizz-drizzling, I have come to Nanjing again
French wutong plane trees converse in Chinese
Yuhua [rain-flower] stones washed clean of bloodtraces, sit in water-basins
on roadsides
OpeningWide at tourists a riotous profusion of eyes 

I like Nanjing
Like meeting with friends in wine-bars
To chat-chat about the China, poetry, woman
But these descendants of survivors and victims of the Nanjing Massacre
Have never talked to me about history   



Pattaya 

Nightshades fall, Ocean supports boats boats in its hand
Palm trees scissor an evening breeze to pieces
In this Good-cheap Buddhist nation, neon glitter everywhere, false shows of
peace prosperity 

Dim-lit shadow bars
Old men from distant shores of GreatOceans
Drinking whisky and Tiger beer
Groping the neat buttocks of Thai women with thick US dollars euros 

Chest hair exposed They
have lived to old age with no gain of power to the spirit
All they do—Through the sewer of their flesh-body—is excrete
the loneliness deep inside heartminds