Poetry Space | Guo Xing: The Last Snow (10 songs)

The last snow

(10 songs)

□ Guo Xing

Kite

Put on the mask of a swallow

Mixed with flocks of birds

It loves windy and sunny days

After watching it for a long time, I understood

Flying like a bird is just an illusion

Flying in mid-air, the fear of heights secretly ignites the swallowtail

Fold the ear roots in a steam pot in the blue sky

Fly in mid-air, to be blown transparent by the wind

Just don't be afraid

While passing through clouds

encounter

Drill heartache

Human

A bride who furnishes her own new house

Singled out the balloon overnight

Under the eaves, read cooking tobacco

Wait for the gardener to write about my other half's body

Serve lost, the one with the cleanliness

Push the teacup to the woman you like

Grandma's green reeds

In the basket, there is no dispute with the world

Dumb

He had a lot of strings of keys, but only one home

When the moon first rises, it sleeps with the corn in the field

Sunset is like some language of the past

Thunderstorm doesn't know when it's coming

Just lie in childhood

Be a self-talking mute

Snow plowers

The snow sweepers in my heart have read poems for me all night

Then you know that snow can also be hot

Embrace the silence of the snow

And its hard-working restrained ingredients

You'll be able to come back with peace of mind

Sometimes you no longer believe that there is light in this world

Until you can exchange power with a sparrow

The little wings flapped

A cosmic hurricane

Pavilion

Living alone, no one will tie the straps on your skirt for you

Or unzip the back

Grandpa began to trouble others for such a small matter

Urinary catheters replace muscle movements

Your aunt stuffs cigarettes with the doctor, and you laugh along with them

Like a parent

Living alone, addicted to cleaning,

It's not a boring thing to lose

Watch the goldfish of the day

Finish cleaning up expired medicines

In fact, you have forgotten what kind of illness you had in the first half of the year

Why has something ever been painful

Also

A man who knows he has hysteria

Like a partially necrotic tree

Imagine becoming a "peony that swims by night"

While giving guests tea

Turn the notch of the porcelain bowl

It is good to love someone with a simple mood

It's like watching the steaming heat coming out of a small dumpling

Even when I give up on this matter

You won't drown in the struggle

Rain pounded on the eaves

Incense is burned to escape the dampness

No longer clinging to the folds of the blue cotton linen tablecloth

The temperature of the inner ironing Gestalt is elegant

Foreigners

Hands-on cooking skills and accents that have never been adapted

Explained all of a Henan woman

The compassion for the mother at this moment is greater than the eternal harshness of the defect

Scissors in the left hand and fire in the right hand

Learning does not restore

Into the night

Umbrellas stand by the fire hydrants

The pool table was empty

You turn your back on me and take care of the gray shirt

Our respective secret is a pair of shoes that can't get wet

A half-old calendar sits quietly

The days are also half old

The faded tattoo resembles a pair of scissors

The late bell doesn't want to be heard by anyone

widow

The last snow was over, someone's dream

Fell into the well water.

A sieve hung on the wall, shaking off the dust of a year

And the word service is included

The meaning of male superiority and female inferiority.

From makeup to coffin, she pampered

Mediocre love.

Legends, only more betrayal of mankind

Rustic nature.

Difficult maneuvers to help you turn over and change sheets several times a day

Your delirious whispers

Like an ice pick hanging from the eaves

Be needlessly angry.

Women, delicate and agitated emotions, unaccessed

"There is no grandfather anymore," she cried to me in an existential sentence

It's a two-way relief

-------------------------------------------------

Spring stove

The danger of amplification under the glass boardwalk

And those firewood were hidden in the early years

The kraft paper that was wet by the rain was difficult to ignite

With your back to you, sleep into a "pie"

The performance happened quietly

The rain isolated me

The crackling of the earnest lending to the distant pedestrians

Late night registration

So everything is natural and you don't have to care about me

The mood of the cardboard shell

Don't repeat bad dreams

Some resting movements are called combing hair

or smooth hair

—END—

Yangtze River Literature and Art, No. 2, 2022

Responsible Editor | Ding East Asia

▲Guo Xing |

Guo Xing was born in 1992 in Nanjing, Jiangsu Province. He is studying for a master's degree in creative writing at Nanjing University. His works have been scattered in Poetry Journal, Rain Flower, Youth, and Poetry Monthly.