words are worth a thousand photos

...

I.

city streets
winding
cracked
up and down hills

rubbish piled up against posts
and curbs

winter's biting through my jeans

i wear boots that hold up the que at the door

tucked and buried

... eels lumped lazily at the bottom of their tanks
waiting
to be served out to the hungry

but i dont like snakes
... of any kind

... the bones from tonight's pork
were their own installation piece

punching air on the wii game
technology keeps advancing

but i swear id rather read my books on paper

... i was losing weight
now im gaining
food i cant quite check the spelling on

seaweed is the best of snacks

these streets
are crumbling
beneath our feet

theyve been crumbling for
dynasties

... everything is pieced together
the food
the smells
the sights
the sounds
the snorts
and
crowds
and shops
and
fried mondu

pieced together like night and day
pieced together
like

the x-y-z's of
one too many years
of
wandering


II.

ibyang
adoptees
neither here nor there
neither this
nor
that

when it comes down to it
these are the ones i should call my own

id like to think we all share the same
deep aches



III.

its not that i think
that if i moved here
id suddenly become
something
more

that somehow the everyday-ness of life
would suddenly make me something closer
to velveteen and
real.

im not lost
havent felt that way since 19
even then it wasnt lost
more like
trying to get found
yes "get"
not
"be"

maybe its the river
maybe its the hours
maybe its just that

i dont know how to live
not wanting more

and this here?

this is
most
of
all the mores.