One Day's Color Poem by Lina Zuo

Life is like toiling in the oil pot
Family's stomach
are extended outwards like a sunflower

Between the day and the night
when I get sober
Get up change and get out

North wind
holding the Huns cutlass
Cut the sunlight into pieces
leisurely spreading on the world

Catch the earliest bus
rolling hills with the morning sun
Hanging on the withered tree
You have to remember the morning color
Yellow red blue and black

Walking through the mechanical and dull
Into the narrow blocks
Into the underground
Never
meet the sunlight again

Room
full of heads
Covered with dust in the air
Artists from noon
are all dead

Catching the last train
Stand In the crowd
Can not make a move
Then Pose

Night
I am back

Through the window
Looking out
The Sky was
Black red blue and yellow

Everything is reversed
I thought It was changing
But It is cheating
I thought I had 8 colors
But I've only got 4