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M G Hsieh Dec 2016
4am isn't too early
for uber or grab
to take my money

24/7 Mcdonald's
an extra cup of coffee
sunlight creeps in

3 teens next to me jam
to South Border and
small talk

1season
too many reasons
pass by
M G Hsieh Dec 2016
Dear Abigail

Realign your stars.
Our dreams are important too.

Awake!
Call to the wilderness.
There are no victims,
no traitors.

A beating heart
A tertiary mind
A fear for you
A pulse beat

Awake, revive.
Be free,
for freedom is a call from within,
a memory of who we once were.

There is no art.
There is no science.
Beauty is truth.
Truth to be.
Freedom.
Beauty to be free.



- Pagpalain ka nawa -
M G Hsieh Dec 2016
to dance / on uneven
footsteps of our
endeavors / black and white
photos / on others' walls /

our feast / doenjang guk
egg caramel custard
sinampalukang salmon
white wine / from
retail therapy and stress / devour /

i only drink / cheap wine
politicians
celebrities
criminals / i want
less of the more
they show /

i dance
while i wait / share
a mismatched meal with me
M G Hsieh Nov 2016
when the precipice met
the abyss, they
f
   e
      l
         l
and tunneled into each other.


            losing my religion
            is my creed
            saying nothing out loud
            trying not to try.

i pretend
                    to want
                to have
            to be

i pretend, i pretend.

to tend --
to give attention to
to care for
to wait on

pre -- \before\


                        that is me.
M G Hsieh Nov 2016
it was winter when i wrote you ;
crags, rocks, trees, were all black
on white and ice --

ice,
it beat on my door --
slivered on the mattress,
sheets of it --
a bedfellow, willing,
eager.

when did the scorpion bring
warm coals to temper the night?
the howl of the moon,
the scorch of the sun --

inside was fire, gurgling.
it was froth and magma.

i heard the tempest, both sea and sky --

faith,
they called
it a rock.
a deep,
black,
rock


in ice.
M G Hsieh Oct 2016
i look for you under the walls
the silent facebook smiles

plastered on top of my bare skin
are wires counting down... ten... nine...

i think of your smile... eight... seven...
crookedly endearing... six... five... makes me come... four... three...

back to where... two... hide-and-seek... one...
is a game i shouldn't play.
M G Hsieh Oct 2016
i watch those shows
you mentioned. the ones
about writers and the
lovers of writers.
i sit naked. typing.
the day wears on me, humid

like you. you are

no lover of writers -- poets, even less.
i sit naked, typing because
of you. ******* you
from me. i no longer write
to you. you are no lover
of writers nor poets. i am
unseen. i make do and make it
worthwhile. i am naked. you
are not. it is better this way.
you will pass naked, too
someday.
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