For Ka-sing, July 2014

you put your glasses on
to read small letters
you take them off
to read the room
the room is silent
every younger person
thumbing and drumming their iphones
connecting and disconnecting
to be or not to be

with glasses on
or off
you still cannot see
the letters are too minute
fingers too big
numb and dumb
to hit the right alphabet

I email you an unfinished poem
across the table
you email me an article
on ancient Cantonese
I've taken on martial art novels
you ponder on the confluence
of clouds
Chinese poetry
west, and the rest

sore neck sore shoulders
you said massage
more therapeutic than medicine
but afternoon tea a must
double double and pecan danish
since when
have you fallen
for such

oh
you are so contented
everyday a new day
new picture
new verse
this place
finally emanates
a garden of
homegrown smells

Published on July 23, 2014