: this deep rush :
2 poems by Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé
: an accidental wandering :
a forced purgation, then left with one notation :
frontpage news folded, paper crane, then paper plane
off : are there lilies like these too
aloft off cheju island?
behind the monument to playback souls :
a beatnik, inside-out beanie to show shamrock threads
and two mothers sucking on horseradish toffee
and mary black dipping her finger into salmon rosette
and images of incoming dragons, quad of pink barnsleys
montaigne lilacs and purple elderberry in a squat :
sneak in the aperitif as an after-taste
a dry-down effect :
sine wave in a turntable treble
this is not a professional hobby, not poised
single-chip afternoon, where paths meet
slapdash : the tourists scatter, a white heron
burnt-through wing and terrified :
about to die, puddle of fire ants in an unward creep.
: round the clock :
pool used to be free at chong fan’s :
we knocked back tequila shots in personalised mugs
slow-cooked soup too, then sweet, creamy coffee
from sulawesi, the longhouse ceiling in teak
a sudden debussy showing up the draftsman
and a book opened to a scalar diagram
like a tonic, and unified field theory :
cut that sprawl out of my life, long-running :
josie du shon’s at bogart’s bar, her hillbilly blues
a shared equal billing : an indie rock band at piccadilly’s
yuppie brood on the look-out, for an all-in-one free-for-all
seven-eleven has the cinnamon pringles, in mini bags
the harley diehards arrive in their chrome
poses and ponytails : there goes all the ad execs
in a black slink, arbitrary curl out to monroe’s
another dramatic clatter, and ice on fire :
draw the arch the way you pencil your brows :
and everything shapes, gets an outline
markered like almonds :
more aloof bouncers : such a tint of a gaze
before next-morning sobriety, whatever gets us
through the day : this deep rush :
y’know, sex – and puppetry and animal skin –
is behind the console, deejay and his yaki perm
suspended in a leather harness : and hammock
where the droll seems rife, just wrung.
Contributor’s note: These poems were previously accepted for publication in the queer journal Ganymede. They remained unpublished with editor John Stahle’s passing in April this year. A final issue, Ganymede Unfinished, will be available in time for his memorial tribute in September, held at The Lerner Auditorium at The LGBT Center, New York. For more information, click here.