/ The Old Place
Death always observes
a painting from behind.
out this window right now
I see a sunset from my youth
an old place revisited
I’m eager to speak the truth
but before the sky darkens
what else can be said?
downing a cup of terminology
just makes one more parched
the river’s water and I quote the earth
among empty mountains I listen in on
the whimpering of the flutist’s inmost heart
the angels of taxation
return from behind the painting
ceaselessly sorting and counting until
sunset those aureate skulls
— FORTHCOMING IN BEI DAO'S NEW BOOK
Endure (Black Widow Press, 2011)
Printed from Cerise Press: http://www.cerisepress.com
Permalink URL: https://www.cerisepress.com/02/05/the-old-place