_____________________________
_____The scene: Chongqing, China. A modest house teeters on a huge mound of red
_____dirt. All around, excavated clay earth. In the distance, huge metal claws dig into
_____roofs, knock down buildings, one wall to the next –
everything that I love:
my books my broken things
my photographs my dinner
plates. ridiculous vigorous
plants on windowsills. myth,
minutia, canisters of green tea,
fish sauce bottles, ovaltine –
what, if not a life?
I dig in and the pile
drivers have at it
all around
loose roof loose wall loose the nails on the nail house
they'll not be taking this away
without tearing their pants
did you get your quote, mister
the story right? I've got to get on
I have a home to be protecting –
_____oh sure, I suppose they'll win
_____someday they'll win,
windows blowing
out with a sound like calving
glaciers __not
that I've ever heard such
a sound, but I read
I do read, mister
well, look at me run my mouth
______still a body's got to do what a body's, etc., etc.
you know, mister –
like a joke when you forget the punch-line
or a sweet you find in your pocket covered
with bits of torn receipts
__________
Tamiko Beyer's work has recently appeared in the Best of the 'Net 2007 Anthology, The Progressive and Crab Orchard Review. Tamiko says regarding this piece: Constantly in my work, I return home – to the concept of, desire for, loss. Seeing this amazing picture and reading the accompanying article, how could I not attempt to sneak into Mrs. Wu Ping's stubborn, tenacious, and terribly pragmatic voice?
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