directing towards a close-up of a train
– passing – through – a tunnel –
towards the mountain above it
where trees s t r e t c h their limbs away
from this stanza
as desires rumbling and trembling
towards a thickened plot
whose plan is not to be a plot at all
towards the train track
over which flaps
not a character
but a seabird
its eyes roaming PANORAMIC
towards a God into whom slips
a longing for Being
on earth
as (un)consciously flawed
towards an oblivion whose memory of memory
is captured
in that fenceless seashore where
moonlight shines
exactly as in your stubborn camera
black and white
like love shamed and shackled
but survived
CHANG WEN studied Comparative Literature at NYU. She writes poems and enjoys traveling to no man’s land. Her work has appeared in With Painted Words and elsewhere. She is currently in Shanghai working on a poetry-play hybrid centered on wine, over-consumerism and psychotics.
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