after each invitation to write, even though i never wish it,
i press my index and ******* against my chest,
in hope of reminding that
Chinese maxim of ensuring my heart
remain small, but furthering that wisdom:
to remain a stone...
and as stone the heart to antagonise
the Chinese proverb:
hǎo shū rú zhì yǒu;
no, a good book is a greater antagonist
than it might allow itself to be befriended,
for once befriended
as satiating a recurrent Sunday repost
it will not sharpen the senses -
and indeed all modern Anglo dreams of science fiction
and space exploration are best summarised with
those eager to learn Mandarin encoding of sounds,
rather than encode the horizons of Mars or the Moon
with exponential carbon fuel exploitation to
craft the cataract boundary of lingering Damocles'
fate simply hanging, ready, the already tested guillotine.