The sunflowers keep rocking on walls, when I am
being pushed into the surgery.
Life is one step away, so is a wry face.
The ghost festival can also be one's birthday.
More and more beautiful are the departed,
as always so unsightly is the appearance of the living.
Is the lancet unpredictable the magic to break walls?
Only in an operation room, the siren and the clock
acquire their oracle status.
Decayed intestines are quickly removed
by circumcision, and a face, full of analgesics,
again comes to life.
Do you truly understand life as it is?
Pains blow up only when the anesthesiologists
How fresh and alive are the sunflowers!
They wiggle like octopuses pursed in the sea
by huge monsters.
About the author:
Liu Xiaoping is a poet, writer and independent photographer.
Liu is the author of the poetry collection
A Courtyard for an Insomniac and the Wind and a book of
cinema notes Lake Water on Polar Circle.
She won several prizes for poetry.