unwords, by nichita stanescu

he offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth
he offered me a branch like an arm
I offered him an arm like a branch
he tipped his trunk towards me
like a shoulder
I tipped my shoulder to him
like a knotted trunk
I could hear his sap quicken, beating
like blood
he could hear my blood slacken in like rising sap
I passed through him
he passed through me

I remained a solitary tree

he
a solitary man.

so low a city

so low a city
in central java

so very low
that they name it
so low

so fine a city
from ev'nin' glow

surakarta.
ho ho ho...

the east

the East.



morning news from the eastern sea.

Buen Dia Eduardo

If you read this, Eduardo
Please drop me a line.

The 'buen dia' was indeed Portuguese.

A Dili boy taught me that.
A Dili boy.

The Mandate

You know, I was mandated to observe an election process;

And here is some parts of my report:

I observed the process of the elections, and the life of the peasants who vote;

The “buen dia” and the “labele”;

I watched and smiled at the sight of Juli and Lepar catching a fish;

I observed a great statue of the King on the top of a hill, which was not made in China;

I paid attention to the security warning sign “maubere”;

Protecting most vital buildings in Dili;

I took a long look at the sunrise and the sunset and had a long breath while observing and convinced that both were not exactly equatorial.

That is my report.