Chen-ou Liu Poems

crawling out
from under dead bodies
of my poetry
this Easter Sunday
...

my nephew
doesn't let me hold his hand
first day of spring
...

roadside puddle
a street dog
licks the winter moon
...

a dried lotus leaf
in Tibetan Book of the Dead...
winter dusk
...

New Year's morning
on The Metamorphosis
slanted sunlight
...

an empty seashell...
the mid-autumn moon
above the Pacific
...

alone by the pond
my yellow stream goes farther
to touch the moon
...

Amazing Grace
drowning in traffic noise...
bright sky silhouettes
the evangelist's profile
...

emasculated
by her 'ABC, follow me'
the first time
he shouts out
...