A poem Jodi Lister sent to me Sat. 3 May 2003, 6:21:45 PM, which almost broke my heart.
The Two-headed Calf by Laura Gilpin
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap its body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north field
with his mother.
It is a perfect summer
evening, the moon rising over the orchard
the wind in the grass, and as he stares
into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
From small notebook, I had taken to Hong Kong, when I resided at 20 Renwick Street, in 1984.
Added, May 4, 1998
Hong Kong. Beggars prostrate. One kneels beside a yellowed page covered with black characters, ideograms, runes? A few greasy coins of various small denominations are placed over certain marks in, so I assume, some kind of spiritual roulette. Whereas if life instructs you, your face is, over time, carved like a mask. But when thought, or, better, introspection, tutors one, features are worked like clay. Continue reading “From small notebook, I had taken to Hong Kong”