From “Li Shangyin Enters Manhattan”
10. i.m. Martin Wong (1946-1999)
Sprayed subway sign: Living is wheezing
a horse riding through swollen veins
I press on and leave gold hand prints
In sky’s blue pocket, write poems
on brick piles, I am not like the others
who drift from horny to scorn in a blink
Another slammed drunk upended
in romance’s spreading muddle
The life of a Chinese cowboy
isn’t all chopped duck and pinto schemes,
I have seen many boys, dead and alive
crying a thousand deaths, stripped blue in the rain
but I still love the smoky smell of a fireman’s rubber coat
crispy french fries lathered in mayonnaise
After I Turned 71
For Laura Mullen
I did not expect to see myself standing in the mirror
I look like someone I would never want to meet
I wonder if I have made a mistake without knowing it
I am sure the word ‘disaster’ does not tell the whole story
I know there is room for improvement but decide to skip over that part
I realize this passport is the last one that will be issued to me
I begin to think the joke is not only on me
I can walk in any direction and still end up in the wrong place
I stop trying to make a list of words I will never use again
I decide making sense is no longer an acceptable form of lying
I think it is prudent to let others do the counting
I often tell strangers that I start vomiting when the seasons begin changing
I agree that ‘reincarnation’ is a scam perpetuated by life insurance companies
I liked it when the cab driver called me ‘young man’ and gave him a smaller tip
What My Mother Told Me
Shanghai is an ancient seaport that no longer exists in American history books
Shanghai is found only on maps where dragons frolic in a frothy sea
Shanghai is known to hide paintings of cats licking their remaining patches of fur
Shanghai is rimmed by nuclear plants mounted on neatly stacked plates
Shanghai harbors fleets of atomic submarines rusting beneath a green tropical sun
Shanghai is a post card of iridescent mermaids lounging on artificial rocks
Shanghai is dirt piling up and obliterating whatever precedes it
Shanghai is an empty gray cargo plane leaving at dawn
Shanghai is a child’s mouth filling once more with black and green snow