Awake To a dream That walks like me Holds my reflection But speaks unsteadily Hollowed By open air Through windowless holes Of ghost town shacks A phantom Abandoned Still drifting And mapping Invisible pinpoints To steady ticks Of some other
她和他处在迷宫般的中他们只是脚步声他们只是要脱单在黑暗中许多走廊许多曲折心跳心樵夫球砍月亮给光(她穿上了黑色面具)在这儿, 说她, 打切她用枪指着他的背钱还是身, 他问给我钱, 她回答没有钱给我身是你的给我心是你的给我月亮(他穿上了黑色面具)我的名字是打切我爱你在月球上砍我杀你血 Michael Feral is a collector of rare books with a half-degree library science. He currently resides in Wimberley, Florida. He spends his time traveling, professionally, to Chongqing, China and back, as a sales representative for Wimberley Blinds and Shutters. This is Michael’s first published translation.
For our setting, your setting: your smoothie-purple mouth, your shoelaces, every refracted ray of light, all the shifting corners along your walk (and all parenthetically interesting details). The setting, in other words, is your every sense upon every facet, layer, and opening. The setting flows—it is there and gone, there
The other night I had a visceral dream. And My banner was ten feet tall. Enshrined upon it was God Loves Everyone. Rainbows dropped from it, as I stood blocking evil. For you see Behind me Was a banner reading: Fags Burn In Hell. The hatred spewed from the banner