I remember sitting on the floor and saw
\nafter your morning pee: the dangling of a ding-dong bell.
\nIt used to be a mere dark slit, when we were still small.
\nIf I open my mouth now and look into the mirror there’s another bell
\nin my sore throat. It’s swollen.<\/p>\n
When I visited you for the last time that Winter,
\nthe air was too dry and your skin flayed and fell.
\nYou didn’t want to go out and we spent the weekend making sure
\nall things were charged. You were still bad-mouthed.
\n‘Fuck your audio faces!’ you shouted to the smug-assed people on the radio,
\ntalking about pseudo-randomness and the predictability of chance.<\/p>\n
But I wanted Chinese food. I came all the way, I yelled.
\nFlorescent lights did not select faces. Chinatown, crowded, felt
\nempty. You demanded of the waiter: “Answer my Cantonese question
\nin Mandarin.” What the hell did that mean?
\nOn the way back, your belt broke on the train.
\nThe buckle pulled off like the head of a snake.<\/p>\n
Before I left, we had a farewell toast. It was hardly noon.
\nThere were raspberries in our vodka, and a slice of lime.
\nYou told me then that you were happy\u2014
\nNo more. You didn’t dread the day
\nwhen someone sitting behind you in a hospital gets annoyed
\nby a stray strand of white hair on your head.<\/p>\n
to see the world<\/strong><\/p>\n –for Dorothee Lang<\/p>\n If you had to choose To see the world in under two dawns, Or to wait with me for five minutes\u2014 Wait with me, confident
\nbetween traveling around the world in one day
\nand waiting for the train with me for five minutes,
\nwhich would you choose?<\/p>\n
\nbetter than a grain of sand.
\nIts rise & decay in ruins \u2014 now tourist sites.
\nIts loving nothingness in city glass buildings\u2014
\nminiature Babel towers.
\nIf you are lucky, you’ll see ten wedding ceremonies,
\nfifteen births in baths,
\npeople yelping & rising from Blowing Rock.
\nOn a remote village road, barefoot children grow or wane,
\nwhile daffodils beg for rain. Someone
\nin the East collects gutter oil for high-end restaurants.
\nYou see soldiers in war zones. Their family
\nare convinced they’ll be back for Christmas.<\/p>\n
\nallow me to hold your hand amidst this flock of
\nchance passengers and passing chances\u2014
\nif only to understand one thing:
\nthat we can still the world
\nin an eternity of nano-seconds.<\/p>\n
\nthat if you are bored of this compressed lifetime,
\nanother one is pressing down the track.<\/p>\n![\"tammy-ho-lai-ming\"](\"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/07\/tammy-ho-lai-ming.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
![\"tammy-ho-lai-ming\"](\"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/07\/tammy-ho-lai-ming-150x150.jpg\")