Depression
i. Sinking
There is always a winding path
Standing like a guidepost on every drainage outlet by a highway curb
"No U-Turn"
I do not turn my head but turn my eyeballs when eyes closed
Trying to find a white line connecting another to reach you
And forget the thousand mountains and waters
A full face of features
Dismantled and scattered on the blank paper of night
I could not assemble back to a flowing sentence
I fold my own limbs, together with them, back into the dark
Hallucinating
Your breathing in heavy nonchalance
I have never learned how to advance fast
I am still on a path like a lamb’s small intestine
And bare footed
ii. Insomnia
For quite some time, I have listened for something
The alphabets that spell your name flick and click like stars
I do not open eyes, and those willow-leaf brows have long been rolled up
An ancient city arches down into the summer
A whitish leg floats out
From under a bridge, followed by a pillow mat
On a 3-D map, affixes and radicals are scattered
Like banners, none of which can preinstall or forestall or translocate
A lone tree on a terrace and transfigure it into a paragon of virtues
The immortal body is the mortal corpse under the desert
Where my gilded boudoir of bride-to-be-never lies
Like a spacecraft coated with starlight without moisture
She has found a posture to sleep in Time
Is it neglected or violated at this moment
Even if I am the most hurt, I won’t tell to myself
I am the one who is spread out within a circle in a square
My pelt can be lacerated from my navel
Exemplifying strength, usefulness and grace
iii. Vision of Death
One sheep, two sheep; three sheep. Their similar faces cuddle together by bleats that tell
there is some kind of benign plot going on between them from mouth to mouth
The floating shamrock of white heads expands and spreads open,
centrifugalized and elongated out, their protruding and concave features flattened.
These clouds I counted numerous times on a culvert in my childhood later afternoons
with a girl from a neighboring village
whose down-to-shoulder plaits had colorful rubber bands.
At this very moment she is leading a flock along a riverbank.
In the morning mist, her fingers, a bunch of truncated scallions, open
on the marble wrist, turning
and turning like a morning glory, beckoning the flock to file through the culvert,
among which headless human trunks walk in navy blue serge, stiffly, steadily.
There is no hearse, no mourning banners.
Who are they seeing off to the burial ground?
I slipped and lost balance, ditched in this gully and left behind,
because I was tempted by a cattail spike, the greenish brown stick
like a cork poked into the bottle of Rogor emulsion, suspending like my head
on the water, eyes above and mouth below
And yet I know
I will soon become a broken stool turning in the flooded river
and rolling beyond the log-pier before my home
like a dead upturned clown knifefish
when the sunrays shower down staggers and baronets
Mamma Mia, the silvery color is darkly grinding
as if on the huge bedstone of night
several ball-shaped scalped runner stones are crisscrossing
and my head is positioned in the rynd and scrubbed once and again
layer after layer
so feathery and flimsy that it does not vibrate to make any sound
in the clearing fog
iv. Waking and Gone
Who has hooked out the green algae and let them dry in the sun
and form stiff dark bowels on the riverbank grasstop?
A school of baby snakeheads sip the water-surface sunlight
while a big one is insidiously watching from the below
Not far away, the hand of clouds is doing the blue
till a spurt of white seeds ejaculates and blurs the liquid crystal
A snake, hesitating for a few seconds, springs out
and snaps a croak of frog to a sudden end
Left on the water is a zipped vein skeleton of a heart
which closes my eyes
July 15, 2008
忧郁症患的夜晚
一．沉底
总是同一条小路
像路牌一样插在这条大路的每个排水口
“不许拐弯”
我不转头，只转动眼帘后的珠子
在地图上寻找通向你的线条
以此忘记千山万水
将一张脸拆散
放在黑夜的白纸上
却不会重组，造出一个句子
连同自己的四肢一道折叠，回到黑暗中
幻听
你的呼吸带着粗重的淡漠
我从没学会飞速进步
仍留恋于羊肠小道
和赤脚
二．失眠
听了很久，拼写你名字的字母发出星星般的噼叭声
睁眼还是多余的了，那柳叶眉
不知哪天已卷了起来
一座古城低头拱进了夏天
一条白净的腿
从桥洞下漂了出来，接着是一块枕席
地形图上，偏旁部首
随处插着小旗子，哪只手、哪只脚能够将自己
移到一个合适的位置，保持端庄
沙漠之下有不烂的
古尸，我的楼兰，如藤椅
遨游太空，没有水分只有星光
此刻，她的睡姿被冷落
还是被欺凌？即使我最受伤害
我仍然是那无动于衷的人，对自己也不说
我便是那个被撑开在方圆之中的人
整张皮可以从肚脐拉开
例证着持久、有用与美观
三．死的幻象
一只大羊两只小羊，三只羊
彼此相像的脸在咩咩声中聚在一起
嘴对嘴，商量着什么
然后那羊头三叶草由小变大，飘飞起来
被甩开，沿着离心力的方向铺展，越发难以分辨其五官
这些云朵，我曾经数过，很多次坐在一座桥涵上
和邻村的一个女孩，她两根齐肩的辫子，扎红绿相间的头绳
此刻，她正带领羊群沿着一条河岸迁徙，举起的手举着
细嫩白净的手腕，在半空中绕着兰花指
那羊群的队伍正经过那座小桥
没有头的大人夹杂其中，肩膀以下是青色的咔叽布
在这个雾气沉沉的早晨，没有幡儿，没有哀乐，被送葬的是谁
丢下我，在这条河的深壑中
我，为了一支刚刚转成褐色的蒲棒，伸手、失足
像一只被弃的乐果瓶里的小木塞
水面在我的嘴巴与眼睛之间晃荡
很快，我就是一张三条腿的凳子在泛滥的雨季
从我家门前的简易码头前滚过
一条刀鱼露出白色的肚皮
那时阳光会从云与云之间投掷无数刺刀
妈妈，妈妈，那白色犹如黑夜
巨大的磨盘上
许多底部被切割掉一块的大石球疾速交错地碾轧
我被一层又一层地搓掉
软塌塌，如粉皮，只是更薄更轻，甚至无法形成任何声音
连雾气也早已蒸发了
四．醒去
是谁将水边的青苔挑出来晾在岸上
午后，河岸上已有一条条僵硬的黑色肠衣
黑鱼苗的嘴密密地咂着阳光碎片
一条大黑鱼在恰好看不见的深处不动声色
不远处，云朵的手
套弄着蓝色，挤出白色的汁
一条蛇犹豫着，突然追了过去
掐断一声蛙叫
水面上裂开的心型拉链
在水面上咬合了我的眼睛
2008年7月15日
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