In the Field
by J. E. Wei
The bungalow is empty now. The clock swings in silence. (I see Grandpa taking me to the urine bucket on a mossy floor, where bamboo curtains moldered.) The bigger room of the first uncle is filled with webs; over there, the second uncles smells dusty; the third room (used to be a pig sty) was built for the third uncle, now a monk in the mountains.
Outside the door, dogs hear the squeak. You ride me on the bike, like those mornings when we had shadowsdont be sad the rice paddies are full of weeds. In the field, fireflies shine with your favorite stars; they are friends saying good-bye. They call out your name: Peace Pine. Peace Pine. It isnt far and let me walk with youcross the bridge of orchids, So Long, my pine, So Long, my pine.
J. E. Wei teaches at St. John's University in Taiwan. At one time (while he pursued his Ph.D.?) he taught at the State University of New York at Binghamton. "In the Field, " which first appeared in Sentence: A Journal of Prose Poetices, was chosen for inclusion in Best American Poetry 2010.
by J. E. Wei
The bungalow is empty now. The clock swings in silence. (I see Grandpa taking me to the urine bucket on a mossy floor, where bamboo curtains moldered.) The bigger room of the first uncle is filled with webs; over there, the second uncles smells dusty; the third room (used to be a pig sty) was built for the third uncle, now a monk in the mountains.
Outside the door, dogs hear the squeak. You ride me on the bike, like those mornings when we had shadowsdont be sad the rice paddies are full of weeds. In the field, fireflies shine with your favorite stars; they are friends saying good-bye. They call out your name: Peace Pine. Peace Pine. It isnt far and let me walk with youcross the bridge of orchids, So Long, my pine, So Long, my pine.
J. E. Wei teaches at St. John's University in Taiwan. At one time (while he pursued his Ph.D.?) he taught at the State University of New York at Binghamton. "In the Field, " which first appeared in Sentence: A Journal of Prose Poetices, was chosen for inclusion in Best American Poetry 2010.
