Tuesday, October 13, 2020

For Quarantine in Paradise









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After finishing books in Taiwan

I would wake in a stupor in Pittsburgh

In a slashed and burned democracy

Whiffing the rank smell of death with pride

Singing sad songs on the front line of no-man’s land

My countrymen, worthless and sick of trying.

 

Though I was furthered  to be the light

The wood that burned the flame was exhausted

Yet the realm of enlightenment remained

For this cautious old fox walking on ice

Not wetting his tail in disastrous attempts

Of transition from a disorder yet complete

 

Cancel a reservation and hold my breath 

Lean on the other leg in anticipation

Of  a fruitful spring vacation

With my eyes wide open and letting go

In retrospection it will seem 

I passed through phases of a dream

 

To mind the gaps at empty stations 

Safe in Taichung as the virus spreads

Glad watching a hag picking toes on a bench

Better than being lost in flight

Or returning home in the dead of night

For quarantine in paradise


October 12, 2020

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