first there comes an itch at the root of your tongue, paralyzing the nerve that connects the brain and the spine you fail to articulate as the itch sinks into your throat it swells up and squeezes into the lungs forming a tumor; you may want a cigarette if so, the tumor spreads to the heart your heart isn’t broken but more painfully it begins…
Alligator by Liang Yujing
You see it groveling there on its soft belly, eyes narrowed into drowsy slits, armored from snout to tail tip. A living totem, the dragon on earth, and the tiger in waters. Alligator spreads itself on the outcrop, stock still, sloppy and domestic, letting rays of afternoon sunshine wobble on its fluted bronze back skin and warm its cold blood. I’d sneer at those who…
Memory by Liang Yujing
I dreamed of a man thrusting his way into my mind ranting at my nostrils his tongue was a machine gun firing down through my throat in just one second my heart was bullet-riddled my lungs dusty and my stomach a ruined fortress unprotected as I was my land became his trophy marching inside me, high and mighty he hoisted the flag between my…
Waiting for a Play
I sit all day at the bus stop. Buses go past; one with Juliet, one with my good brothers, another with my ambitions. No one waits here; they get on around the corner, I imagine. I wait and think and read the bus schedule, Hoping one will have my date and time. I get on the last bus of the night And fall asleep before…
E-mail by Liang Yujing
#1 everyday mails that gather in your mail box: exotic mails in a good-looking language to test your imagination ecclesiastical mails with an intent to convert you to their god educational mails providing you with a variety of pay training courses erotic mails with fake-breasted half-naked chicks on their covers erroneously delivered mails with your address and strange names empty mails that generously give…