Wednesday, April 20, 2005
from Deng's Last Poems
(Translated from the Chinese)
XII. Is It This Year Already?
Paul came into the kitchen and told us about the egg roll.
"When I ate the egg roll it pinched my skin like an oyster."
"Like an oyster?"
(We see Claudia's blotchy napkin lips)
"That was last year, Paul"
XLIV. Picking Your Target
A green metal fork scratching at a few last peas, the print
on the dishwasher-crazed china
squeegees into view
like Hiroshima
// posted by George Manka @ 12:12 PM 
