Any successful standup comic. To gain a practical understanding of the downside and the struggle.
I wouldn’t care to be a billionaire because it would be just my luck that it’d be the day people wised up and the revolt began, and I could say the same thing with respect to world leaders.
a Seagull stands
at a respectful distance
from a fish stall,
waiting for the fishmonger
to do the right thing.
The image was hung on the wall
in an otherwise clean and well-
managed business hotel.
I can't really say that I'd ever had
that particular nightmare before
I checked into the room,
But I know I've had it many times
since.
Set atop a post on a brutal white
sand beach in a stifling burlap
onesie -- a onesie that one
would have to have been sewn into,
for it had no zippers, buckles,
buttons, or Velcro.
What was the nightmare?
To be seen, while not seeing?
Suffocating slowly -- held under
the high tide with waterlogged
cloth clinging to my face?
Arms pinioned as the seabirds
went to work on tearing through
cloth and skin in as few
vicious pecks as possible --
pristine white growing
blood crimson stains,
running down the pole,
dripping onto the sand.
All of the above?
I never have a good memory of it.
That's why I'm not sure that I
didn't have the nightmare
even before I ever saw that
poster on the wall of an
ordinary hotel -- far, far
from home.
One afternoon, in the
Forbidden City,
People roam about --
Sightseeing.
The very next morning,
A single line of tracks
Through freshly fallen snow
Cuts across the very
Same yard.
Trying to get squirrels out of the attic. They did me like Macaulay Culkin / Kevin McCallister in Home Alone. Ultimately, had to call experts (pest control, not hitmen,) and they made short work of it.
chubby squirrel
scampers across crusty snow --
crunchlessly!
I live amid a busy town,
But traffic sounds are never heard.
How can this possibly be true?
Deep in the mind, all is remote.
Picking 'mums by the eastern fence,
I peer at distant South Mountains.
Sunset flares in garish color.
Birds flock home in lines and clusters.
The scene conveys some great meaning,
But words to express it fail me.
NOTES: “Drinking Wine, no. 5” [饮酒·其五] is one of Tao Qian’s [陶潜] “Twenty Poems on Drinking Wine” [饮酒二十首.] It is the best-known piece from the collection. The original poem in Simplified Chinese script is:
结 庐 在 人 境,
而 无 车 马 喧.
问 君 何 能 尔?
心 远 地 自 偏.
采 菊 东 篱 下,
悠 然 见 南 山.
山 气 日 夕 佳,
飞 鸟 相 与 还.
此 中 有 真 意,
欲 辨 已 忘 言.
I’ve started reading a review copy of Arthur Sze’s Transient Worlds (from Copper Canyon Press, due out April 14, 2026.) The first chapter discusses this poem and various translations of it, encouraging readers to make their own translation. This is mine. For more information about the book, see: https://www.coppercanyonpress.org/books/transient-worlds-arthur-sze/
Tiger Riding for Beginners 