Chen-ou Liu Poems

old Taiwan map
on my attic wall -
winding through
the corridors of my mind
...

my mind
trapped in this deep, black
emptiness...
and yet I hear
...

she kisses me
with the look in her eyes
the distance
between our shadows
...

this snowy silence...
flat-footed Death
paces to and fro
in the dark corridor
...

halfway
through the cubism art class
I stare at a window
and see myself
...

father's prognosis
not a word and yet
this sunset glow
...