Friday, 31 December 2021
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不能真 是不是美的错? 想象一件河底撒开的衬衣
谁说死不是湿淋淋的和声? 河底的小窗亮着那演奏 河底 一个不停跃下的词
房子向下 品尝的雪意向上 舌尖 钩住的毁灭是否远远不够?
想象一个滚落的自我 呛满历史的黑水 滚落如卵石
没别的语法除了剥开生命那件衬衣 说 死侧身人形的茫茫
母亲飘散的白逆着美的方向 成为它 拓展噩耗 谁没目睹这首诗急急赶来
3. Poetic Inquiry − Another Embedded Voice
can’t be real is that beauty’s fault?
imagine a shirt spread out on the riverbed
steeping in the black of a Berlin night
imagine two eyes water-choked mother choking on water
who says death isn’t a drenched harmony?
a little window on the riverbed lights up the show riverbed a word that never stops leaping downwards
never stops finding leaked-out sobs leaves go down and wounds go up
houses down enjoyment of imminent snow goes up tongue tip is hooked ruin not enough by far?
imagine a self plunging down drowning in history’s black water plunging like a pebble
there’s no time other than a contraction of the lungs
there’s no grammar other than a shirt that strips life away say death’s immeasurable side-on human shape
is filling up with sediment again still not enough?
in self-indulgent poetry there are only newly-arrived words
touch in here he does all he can to pursue his own river bed to become it
mother’s vaporizing white travels in the opposite direction to beauty spreads the worst of news no one saw this poem coming so quickly