On an unknown day, with mysterious weather, at x o’clock, my out-of-focused eyesight vaguely saw a red dot tiptoeing blatantly through the grey carpet.
I zoomed in up front,
leapt away down back.

The ferocious heir of Arthropoda, the Ladybug.

It marched, one pixel by pixel, from the center of the ocean-size carpet towards the great wall, body swaying slightly left and right.
“The pilgrimage must be done on foot.”
One eighth of a fingernail, color of a ripe tomato, the shell hard as diamond, exerting awe.

And it stopped, facing the skyscraper wall.
And few days later, it disappeared

from the surface of the earth.
Maybe was vacuumed up to its tomb,
or crushed by a malicious human being, or caught in a spider net,
or crushed by an unintentional human being, or starved,
or crushed by a fearful human being…


So fragile yet so unreasonably intimidating
With a shell on the back that can split open
with the reveal of an oily segmented soft body and a pair of wings of broken glass
plus six counting legs, the alien’s claw.

Yet with no intention to harm but to stay alive.

A life that should value the same as mine
yet wasted so easily.
Though we do not share the same aspect of life
we all aim to survive.
What is so intimidating about you?

Your tragic death,
probably faced immense fear in a stranger space
froze in desperation in front of a dead end
forgot you could fly
died with only me remembering.


I mourned and mourned as I wrote and reflected,
and jumped at the sight of
a friendly ant,
squeezed out a sentence with my limbic mind:
“if you… don’t come close to me… I will not… harm you…”
Suicide by bugs, quite a scene.

The absurd fear that I can never **** off
and the hypocrite said
I treat every earth life the same.

The sound! The sound! Popping around
Steam blurs the edge of the hair
Fire is stomping in the stomach.
The heat saturates the body. Help!

The dance! The dance! A cold beer offer
Luggages slide down the conveyor belt
Bubbles are counting the beats and pops
The ice swings the heat over and behind.
“It’s now the warmth and peace.” The first new-year sentence
spoken by the stomach and beyond.

There is a tree
with falling leaves.
It releases a sigh.
Flapping leaves. Lifeless.
The sigh
sentences the death pile.
You stand besides it,
and release a sigh.
Are you the judge
or the executor?
You tilt your head, laughing with mockery.
“I am neither.” You cite yourself.

There is a network, working interactively.
You think you are sick. Doctors certified.
Thumbs are numb, mumbling
on the crumbles, plumbing
comfort from the invisible.
A plaster face,
the same as his, hers, and theirs.
You stand besides the tree.

A monster is awake:
too much noise,
too much vibration.
It opens its eyes:
Who are they?
Faces on him, her and them.
They move fast,
faster than lightning.
You stand besides the tree.

Then the face is torn off.
You look at the tree:
Life in the trunk,
death in the pile of leaves.
A judge or executor?
The face in the leaves.

You think
you are unique.
Which face is it?
Seeing a fly on the net.
And thousands of flies.
Then you encounter that tree
out of thousands of trees.
That tree and you:
Half alive,
half dead.

The fly, or the tree, on the net.
You watch and cannot touch,
You stare and cannot move.
The spider climbs close.
You finish the sentence.

He is sitting in the dark
Please listen
Listen to his voice
As no one cares
His loneliness is roaring
As loud as a drop of blood
Dangling at the tip of his heart
Please listen
Listen to his plead
Pleading in the dark
Crawling at the corner
Like a doll
Raggy with holes on his body
Soft as a worm under the sun, exposed
Nakedly, colorless
God please
Please listen to him
He is crying, trembling and bleeding
He is silent
He is loud
He is chaos with only one color around
He is noisy with only his heart bumping
He is dying
Dying as a fish in a shallow hole
Please listen
He begins to sing

He said he lost everything.
From his hair to toenails.
From his skin to the mind.
He was depressed and blind.
Then, he becomes a particle of dust.
Then, he owns everything.

A door opens.
He rides the wind.
What is that?
Orange, yellow and red;
Burning, hot, and warm.
A fireplace with an orange bubble.
A strip of scarf,
and the coziness is hung around the house.
What is that?
Brown and white are swirling,
Bitter and sweet,
A stream is running down the throat and raising the heat.
He signs with a scent of cocoa.
What is that?
A body sinks into a pile of marshmallows,
A breath as light as feathers brush against the air.
Even and thick.
He melts into the armchair,
and snores with comfort hugging his soul.

He dances around with delight.
He forgets he once lost everything.
He pivots with the wind and counts what he owns:
A rocky road in front of his house;
New paint on the wall;
The light that only has one light bulb working;
A brick wall with dark bricks embedded among the red bricks.
“Art! Art! That’s a piece of art!”
He proclaims in ecstasy.

Then he counts and falls asleep in his dream of memory.
And wakes up with everything.

You raise your head.
A red balloon
releases its hands.
A red balloon against the white sky.
It chuckles.
Rubber skin vibrates against the layer of gas.
The red balloon against the cobalt sky.
It spins.
Dancing with the downward blue.
The red balloon against the dark sky.
It whistles. Oxygen brushes its sheer skin.

“Where are you going.”
You ask.
It blushes.
“I am going to hug the stars.”
Then the gravity releases its hands.

The red balloon. A hug.
You hear a laughter.
A star tears open the dark sky.

If I crawl, will there be
a loop around me?
If I yell, will there be
an echo of tears?
If I grab my heart, will there be
a burst of blood?
If,
if I breath, if I frown, or if I smile, will there…?

It is all dark, all blank, bright, my eyes,
My eyes swell, swell and bleed,
My throat cut, slash, bam,
Please, please grab the knife.
Because, because, cough...
My body, still, full of blood, why?
I do not hear a thing.

Am I blind? Am I? Are you?
Am I deaf? So do you? Nodding?
Answers? I cough, saliva’s dripping.

Then I crawl, a loop around one’s neck.
I yell, all silence.
I grab, reach, dig into my body.
Right Hand as a shovel, left hand as a claw.
Itchy, itchy, I find my heart.
Scratchy, scratchy, I close my fist.

I breathe, I bend, one’s skull kisses the ground...
Knock! Knock!
All!
All blank.