Hometown Poetry

Body

my hometown hand

as hot as a stove

every rainy season

bleeding yellow

Scars made of cornbread

oozing, water droplets

Moisturize the land that once existed

hill between river ditch

sleep over half an hour

come to the front

vivid tears

white liquid similar to sago brewing

my hometown hand

as long as velvet

The rice field is silent in the water

fingers everywhere

indistinguishable body

Thousands of clumsy joints

tending a catty of broad beans

Since when white overlaid black

no trace of time

A gust of wind disappearing from view

field frog

silent

women

women from my hometown

carrying two children

without saying a word

Walking on the white calendar

They are so familiar with every inch of land

from head to foot

see through everything yet share everything

women from my hometown

not much tenderness

greedy people let

The shining starry night is no longer a safe haven

So they fill their eyes with longing

Put it in the most secret place on the bottom of your feet

women from my hometown

Boiling Yesterday's Potatoes in a Pot

look at those beautiful eyes

Wait until golden brown on the surface

empty plate

hot lights

women from my hometown

Where are you

times go by too fast

There are too many nodes that cannot be reached

cover up life

flood the river

bury your dreams

so i can go away

women from my hometown

watching time being crushed

where to store your memories

body, earth, air

grandmother, mother, sister

night

there is no night in my hometown

black air

freeze white time

lights in the distance

wrapped in gentle arms

everything is so hot and warm

my cat

same as night

wiggly beard

struggling in the black

but it's too late

Can't poke the retina of the night

flying at home

try listening to the voice of memory

Self-righteousness jumping on paper

wait for the tavern to close

There is no desertion of breaking up

there is no night in my hometown

Cooking the clamor in the street

sweat or raindrops

Stories Intertwined in the Streets

Gradually imprinted on the back of the brick

The so-called dark night in my hometown

flakes like petals

spread all over the floor

wait for the wind to pick up