Three flights up in a temporary room
just a slim chance to get it right
corner windows, streaked brown by the air of industry
resist the summer sun’s pursuit of my attention
coming up hot
everyday as it does, again and again
a daily chime from a clock upside down
reminding me reality is relative
Below, an atom of a city, vibrating all night where
swarms of scooters mimic starlings
above, glass towers rise as 21st century temples
to impress and reflect
another Forbidden City
reminding the people who they were
who they are becoming
the new emperors
While these officials flex their politics wearing white gloves to mask the filth
the neighborhood shopkeeper smiles
happy to exchange paper for cheap beer and ice cream bars
ours is a street diplomacy with
the people’s peace a loose butterfly net
catching our nationalism unawares and stuffing it in a jar
once contained, we don’t know what to do with it
a young woman sees the foreigner caught in another downpour,
wordlessly, she is at her side like a sister
an umbrella pops up sweetly
as if kindness is a currency
How do I repay you after such a small act in a world devoted to catastrophe?
Maybe we could continue this conversation in gestures since words have failed us
somewhere in the dissonance
there is an on-ramp
but I have to be paying attention to find the right road
this isn’t a job for old maps
what I think matters less
it was how you made me feel that I remember the most.
sharedimpulse 