Monthly Archives: April 2009

The Garden of Lanterns of Grave Lament

. The Garden, The End of Our Neverending As I lay you down on the grass, the orange daisies weeping around us, the lotus flowers opening and closing, the armageddon coming and coming, my love, my love, this is the end of our neverending. We go down together. We enter the garden of lanterns of

The Streets of Long Goodbyes

. Sticks and Stoned Those pages that dreamt of you and me, do they not weep for a time when we were free? When we were prisoners of lasses with mighty cutlasses, big batons to match their thick tresses; while we were slipping away, were there any who were begging us to stay? Our guards

These Pages They Dream

. The Bay of Lost Junks The invisible bay where lost junks come to hide, or so they say . There are trails of what used to be memories or secrets that won’t subside. These shallow waters have depths that don’t leave with the tide. The surface ripples softly like a trembling, naked neck before

The Communist Merman

. The Communist Merman Ladybaby, don’t you know it’s true? They call me the communist merman from the land of the blues. I don’t remember the things you said, just the nights and days we laid on the burning sand when we promised our desire would never end. You swore I was your only one,

Morsels

. Janis Joplin is screaming over the stereo. It’s summer and I’m at Woodstock again. Take another little piece of my heart now, baby. Sweet, tender pieces of my heart. Morsels you can savour with a cup of pu erh, a tea with wit strong enough to sustain you. Taste my har gao and taste