Monday, September 13, 2004
expectation
so long i can't believe how long it's been it's 5 o'clock i wear no shoes the light is out i cannot see, there's nothing on the ground to be afraid of everything is scoured by the people sleeping on the street.
no one's here it seems the cops have cleared the people there was quite a group of them they're off to somewhere else.
this is a filthy town i sit here in this patch of park where people sleep who have nowhere to go and lo! no one is waking up those who are up are still awake that's not quite true.
people pulling giant carts of stuff along the road the carts aren't big the packing is.
and venus smiles at me the moon has waned to gibbous waning makes more sense to me than waxing.
mosquitos bite sometimes i kill them.
across the street there is a place where i can get some porridge i'm not even using the right word i guess it's congee. porridge. gruel. i don't know. i'll have it with pork and egg and i'll eat it outside.
don't you see? that! is art that! is art that! is art. that woman picked up that piece of cardboard. this is a good pen.
the sun is rising but i can't see it over high-rises and expressways.
they took the tables inside i can't sit outside.
people stare at me.
i walk by a restaurant. a man grunts at me. i speak chinese, you know. if you want to talk to me, you can.
empty faces staring at me. motorcycles honk at me because if i ride with them they get money maybe a lot. cabs honk sometimes. this one flashed his lights. usually they at least slow down. this city is a dirty hole. it's like an armpit but it's more of a crotch. people look at me and expectorate.
no one's here it seems the cops have cleared the people there was quite a group of them they're off to somewhere else.
this is a filthy town i sit here in this patch of park where people sleep who have nowhere to go and lo! no one is waking up those who are up are still awake that's not quite true.
people pulling giant carts of stuff along the road the carts aren't big the packing is.
and venus smiles at me the moon has waned to gibbous waning makes more sense to me than waxing.
mosquitos bite sometimes i kill them.
across the street there is a place where i can get some porridge i'm not even using the right word i guess it's congee. porridge. gruel. i don't know. i'll have it with pork and egg and i'll eat it outside.
don't you see? that! is art that! is art that! is art. that woman picked up that piece of cardboard. this is a good pen.
the sun is rising but i can't see it over high-rises and expressways.
they took the tables inside i can't sit outside.
people stare at me.
i walk by a restaurant. a man grunts at me. i speak chinese, you know. if you want to talk to me, you can.
empty faces staring at me. motorcycles honk at me because if i ride with them they get money maybe a lot. cabs honk sometimes. this one flashed his lights. usually they at least slow down. this city is a dirty hole. it's like an armpit but it's more of a crotch. people look at me and expectorate.
