BIRTHDAY POEM

Still sultry. Still waking up alone, tidying the tiny sack
of flesh, itself slowly waking, that hangs from the horntip of the Cow Year . . .

Talking to strangers about my troubles: not today, either.
Nobody to talk to today. Today, goods circulate in the manner of corrosive chemistry.

In point of fact, what’s causing such majestic sighing is the toothbrush.
I perform slow introspection: deer eyes, little scrolls of ears, dog nose, flowery tongue,

a glutton wolfing down the cosmos, and boiling the invertebrates of the sea!
At noon, I’ll sit the sofa of the new rain, cross my legs and count their hairs.

The first time I ever opened my eyes, I was vegan.
Math teachers at public universities barely ever give lectures wearing shorts,

that one with a mouthful of spearmint, trunks of the legs straight, pores humbly opening,
thinks on the Way that can waylay and the grotesque habits of the divine.

It’s been like this for more than forty years!  The bull’s horn pierces the new rain’s face,
shall I go back to when the womb opened? No: electrocuted, I become a sea medusa, gossamer red.

生日诗

生日诗

还是闷热。还是一个人起床，收拾牛角上
渐渐醒转的渺小皮囊……

不在亲人面前说悲伤，今天也不。
今天无人可说。今天，流通货跟随腐蚀的化学。

针尖上讨尊严的叹谓，其实牙刷。
漫漫内省，鹿眼睛、小卷耳、狗鼻子、花舌头，

这漏食口袋囫囵吞下宇宙，又煮沸无脊椎的海兽！
正午，盘腿坐在新雨沙发上数腿毛。

第一次睁开眼睛时，全素。
公立大学的数学老师，极少数讲台上穿短裤，

那嘴含绿薄荷的一个，腿杆正直、谦卑地张开毛孔，
反思道之所盗与神圣的恶俗。

如此就四张有余了！牛角顶穿新雨面目，
回到撑开子宫的一刻？不，通电成透明的红色水母。