Gazing from the counter, I see by Guo Chen

the poker cards from the blue ballroom

opposite to this roosting retail store
called Three Goods – 三好商店

hatching back into a stuffy, orange hotel
on that New Year’s Eve

—— An old man asks for a change
yellow teeth specked with silver fillings

breath the silhouette of
grandfather’s smoked beard ——
I heard grandfather’s二胡
melodies sipping on spring’s blood

The Butterfly Lovers
cushioning those copper fireworks
that trod hickeys on cruel snowflakes
branching like

emerald glasses
who pierced his fingers

I see me throwing cherry bombs
at the peeling sycamore

peering through the rusty spokes of a bicycle
near his store

My parents asked me why I hold
chopsticks in the wrong way

like my grandfather

who crushed his knuckles
cutting glass for a living

who carved icy coins from glass
now nesting in my pencil case

who had cancer gyrating on
the blueprints of his lungs

whose beret hat smelled like the moss
on the瓦of grandmother’s chicken coop

whose music doesn’t speak of English
but of the tenseless callus on his fingers

whose death lost to three gods:
sweaty gloves, trills of 徵, and a hand holding sparklers.

————————

三好商店 – Three Good Store
二胡 – a Chinese instrument 
瓦 – a distinct kind of roof tile
徵 – a pitch indexed by the traditional Chinese musical system, equivalent to G