Marsh Hawk Review

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Xiaoqiu Qiu


     Old Havana Wall


above
empty cartons
and cans
black and bold
:

¡NO Arrojar Escombros!

delegado p.p.
P.N.R
C.D.R

all about the broken
bricks, bags, bottles
scrawls
blacksprays:

a/b
2+2=5
4!
re__ íon!
¡sí _e pue__ !


the dark, fresh, stuff
of


it
rains again
the flower drooling
pink
on the blackbin

a heart
pounding
and pounding

it rains heavier


     The Lady on the Porcelain in a Shumai Shop
                After Miss Mo

when the chopsticks rested, the vase
is there, out of of the hot steam
a painted lady, leaning in the middle, arms
on a silk mat, like a pheasant, other
hand pluck the bonsai leaves, so
content her eyes, you’d think war
has ended for last time, below
chrysanthemums spatter, her
wavy dress, cyan the entire porcelain
and in between, almost invisible
a pair of bound, atrophied feet—
the muffled, pain
of deep boudoir, glazed
for display on the dining
table:
people throw
toothpicks in it