MOMENTS OF TRUTH, A BOOK SERIES Poem by ZANG DI

Nine dogs scatter on the street and around the corners,
politically empty and deserted. Cold practices being colder.

Along the river eight magpies fly off the kites of their own black and white.
You are fastened from inside. What else can it be if not a rope?

Seven taxis pass through the reading and get murdered.
What's more surprising? Certainly not the six bodies left behind.

On the roadside, five pockets carry the secret of life,
the strawberries inside look illiterate but lovely.

All four rivers thaw, and start to contribute reflections for the spring.
But the fish in the river remain a flock of suspense.

Three men walk out of the side doors of a supermarket.
Two apples have stopped arguing. How do you know if you don't know

you have as many pesticides as on my skin? But we do know that
on one street there can be more than one darkness.