Imagination Poem
By Ya Shi
Translated By Nick Admussen
Imagining another person is like writing my diary in poetry.
We don't know each other, but the same demon possesses us both,
like we're playing a game before they carry out our "destruction" —
A competition between idiots; nobody knows its delights.
Here, I denounce his Puritanism,
and he doesn't go easy on my poor taste or bad logic.
With each sentence, we loathe each other a bit more, become a bit more intimate.
He is warm in the inter and cool in the summer, has never eaten sesame on lettuce,
if he's been in love I'm sure it was with a chunk of quicklime.
Night. A bit of faint blue rules over "madness" and "reason."
I carry my computer over the bridge, pray for rain with the chrysanthemums,
I am with them and with them, the moist mountain range sprouts an endless white beard.
Sometimes — uh-oh — between us there appears a vague "you"!
In the mirror, I write a string of letters and then wipe them lightly away:
you're fucking awesome. You rub your hands and bright, resilient space
goes warm!
Copyright Credit: Ya Shi, "Imagination Poem" from Floral Mutter. Copyright © 2020 by Ya Shi, translated by Nick Admussen. Reprinted by permission of Zephyr Press.
Source: Floral Mutter (Zephyr Press, 2020)