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day by day: a blog

May 20, 2009


hunan garden.jpg A spring evening. An area presently at peace. A dim light. Are we almost alone here? The food is gone. In the bleach blue tank an armoured, bronze prisoner stirs, then lapses back into the immobility of despair. Bubbles rise. To hand, the princes yell and fence with chopsticks. But their father broods on his lost kingdom, the light in a glass of water. A battered portfolio arrives from the north. (He imagines it is stained with the tears of a thousand unsung heroes.) In it, bad news. (He suppresses a sigh.) On it, four cookies like sugared shrimps. The red message in the one which the emperor chooses -- the only one left -- is kindly, obsequiously meant: "You will make a name for yourself in the field of entertainment." He, though, sees dark auguries in these professionally sunny words!

Posted by njenkins at May 20, 2009 09:03 PM

With the exception of interspersed quotations, all writing is © 2007-09 by Nicholas Jenkins