Poetry

After Occupy

In poetry, Karen Cheung connects with Hong Kong’s protests

 

my screen erupted into a grey mist

but my eyes did not water

eight hours and 9562 kilometres away

 

“pepper sprayed is no credential” the poet wrote,

two years later, same city different protest

i made sure the world knows i was pepper sprayed,

            (for i did not hear the people sing.)

 

Poetry

Stories from the Bohai Sea

Ten poems by Xiao Shui – translated by Irene Chen and Judith Huang

From Spittoon Literary Magazine

Wandering Soul

He was seven that year, when his father fell down at home, he picked up the phone, not panicking at all.

His mother, a painter, remarried a retired general, while he chose to avoid enlistment through self-mutilation.

He came from Daejeon, South Korea. In the taxi he gave me an unexpected kiss, then became distant again, like a stone evaporating from a stone.

Finally leaving China, in an airport hotel, he decided to once more experience the thrill of a stranger.