One Hundred And T h i r t y Seven Jellyfish

I miss you, Chen says

to me but not about me

In the ghost-city of bondaged

light sniffing cold concrete

.

Cell phones in a pasture

plastic surgery'd animals

collapsing on water's birthmark

.

To kiss, Chen tells me

is to recreate old wallpapers

with the right person, she says

.

It's like an aerial of one hundred and thirty seven jellyfish

a kaleidoscope of colour

relaxing muscles you never noticed were there

.

Until they slept

to be rained on by someone you love

is to become a zoomorphic calligram

.

In vending machine glows

home's homeless soul, in contrast,

was filled with jazzlike nature

.

"In which the removal of imperfection destroys the person herself,"

Chen says and watches

two hands connect via bridges of boy-sap

.

Fox cries were simple, cop sirens

I love you here, Chen says

but I can't survive in the wifi

.

The ideal violence is nostalgia

like kitten teeth

the past within the babushka doll of the present

.

Nothing is like the runny yolk

of where I'm from

every day was like floating down streams

.

But our hands will never be clean

they can only be cleaner

a tribute to the gift of flaws

.

Not everyone born from the cosmic egg

is so easily blessed

but look how large your wings are!

.

There are many things we can still see

through the wreckage of the city

they see us in return

.

I'm still in this sex-dance, says Chen

with everything I've ever seen

the naked eye is still a nude

home