Augur the Year of the Tiger

Sun storm globule, rain in giant droplets/strikes Chinatown, and dolorous wandering in grey/gives way to a hail of light perceived through a thin haze of duck fat

Firecrackers pop their secco revolts / of a New Year on water’s edge / as if the drums had been riden over and across / the vast belly of the Sound, twisting thro green ferries full of white automobiles and plastic bags strained with weight

Do all fauna cry before death? Because / this feast is some sacrifice to the future / and beholdens a truce / justified, for man is so skilled at killing man — that slow undertone of a groaning and ceaseless civil war rumbles in a train tunnel below — / that when egg rolls thick with shags of meat are cut / 

and handed from one who has been fed into the hand of the hungry one /one with a blanket slung over like a bandolier/one who had been engorged in a garbage can near a pillbox of city loot / one who had crashed a window of Ming antiques / one who had shouted as a banshee named Cincinnati / one who had spat upon a gate / one who had wandered toothless into a Starbucks taste session / one who had wondered why if the Wifi and the chemtrails were linked / one who had returned from Vietnam / one who had imagined no more solace for the day than an ounce of some substance /

that, as the New Year dawned amid hobbled men and the reverb from gunpowdery joys, the rain shards broke and forever splintered upon the ability of one to wonder.       

Les festivités du Nouvel an chinois à Paris en février 2009 -- via Aujourd'hui en Chine

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