Poems from the vault no.2

In The Crowd

Beijing’s a bad smile, marked with soy teeth,
The occasional row of buildings’ raw
With dental fractures and scaffold mounting
In staccato and decline, all ebb and ebb,
Forever on it goes

The endless recycle of glass, the audible pour of beer
Light and breezy but for pockets of air
Breaking in small waves against the glass,
Lips smacking like brash childish jokes
All with an unforgiving humour

And the infinitely fine dust lines my palm
Like an Indian wedding, a spider’s web as pact
To the moments that I’ve shared
With your subway rails, your rough coloured walls
Those that flake like peeling stars from an all too busy night

I’m learning to swim like a native
To duck without slipping my tongue,
And I’m purposefully drowning
Drinking in microbacterial history,
Loosing myself via your perfect and relentless motion

In that ebb and that ebb I’m in pasture
Pulled roughly by the surge,
And I’m chocking down in all of it,
Now waiting on the return.

Author: jameskramerblog

James Kramer is a fiction writer currently based in Beijing.

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