Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Kit Kelen #380 - under it

under it

down there
two on a raft
really an anchor
poling back to mother boat
they had to be fixing something
a minute of tugging, back on board

fisherfolk – as if the water were another age

colour of the river and sky too these
you see the boat once had a bit of blue
it's all mud now

white thing's the egret to stand through the tide

is it from the future I type?

piles of sand
and gravel
and cranes across the river
they must be putting something up

over the border
the soldiers trot march
they have a recording and speakers to urge them

my flat is a view out over the border
and far out to islands
when the smog is light

that's not today
light days have become rarer and rarer

we see breathe through a steady haze

on our side
the security guard in his box

over the wall
freeway tears by

mine's the tower of power
with rector on top
knowledge spread out like a garden below

rule of so many here
heaven's over
river runs
the factories
and the traffic
pour on
even unseen

a little boat takes the river across
the one I can't take – Loane to Wankam
so few the ferry
so close across
one wishes one could walk
but the border's between
with its shouting guards
with its recordings of shouting guards

on my side Macao police cruise by
and pause under a tree
wait to see if any will come over the wall
to give us their money today

the clock beyond them strikes
as if 9

on the radio
which is really a tablet
(I say this merely to resist product placement)
the ABC news tells me twelve
hard to know which I should
choose to believe

can't see the web under
but swim to be home
is how a river runs

must be a problem
with the anchor
the two on the raft
are back poling again

mud for as far
as the eye can see

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