闺蜜 Salon

The flood caused by typhoon Morakot has already killed more than 600 people in Taiwan. Actually what I concern most now are the children who are still trapped in the mountains, those aboriginal children with beautiful eyes — but our government doesn’t care them at all. I wrote this poem in the midnight of Aug. 8, and, of course,  the words are chinese. Let it be the first chinese entry of Guimi! This may be considered more radical (politically) by some, but well, that’s the only thing lingering in my brain at that night.

清晨七點

你望著電視發呆

彷彿裡頭的災難是劇情

哭聲懸浮奔流

你嚥下一口咖啡

 
你的書房是一座安寧的島嶼

溫暖、明亮

與那村莊遙遙隔著空中的海洋

哪怕陸地相連

只是道路坍方

聽那雨聲吧

少年的阿母煮了路上撿到的虱目魚

聽那雨聲吧

布農青年在喊著尋找失蹤的阿嬤

聽那雨聲吧

婦人摟著浸濕的衣服爬上屋頂

那座島嶼沒有光，沒有存糧

拖著盪動的影子在腳下

 
你告訴自己，那座島嶼高不可攀

你一向安於盆地內陸

於是到廁所洩出你自己的溪流

同樣黃濁

如昨晚宴會上的麥酒

流進你地圖裡未標記的河口

不是眼淚的顏色

 
聽那雨聲吧

聽那雨聲吧