Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Chengdu

Beneath a lean-to teashop,
an abacus clicks in dialect.

On bikes overloaded with parcels,
millions of black slippers spin
into markets, parks and hovels.

Add or extract a body
and the scene careens in unity.

Coal dust falls like pepper,
sticks like echoes, ink, and the talc
of butterflies considered long extinct.

Squat in a bamboo grove
sits the cottage of Du Fu,

master poet of the T’ang,
who wrote everywhere I go, I owe
money for wine
.

2 comments:

LimesNow said...

RICHLY evocative of a place such as old Shanghai. Thank you.

Kass said...

I have a couple of pictures of my trip to Indonesia that were instantly brought to mind by this. Intense images!

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