Tony Huang

For the university where I teach

I have to repeatedly confirm that you
Did not travel from a parallel time
And space to my classroom podium.

I walked close to you, haunted, perplexed,
Spying time and again into your depth,
Sighing over the darkness inside

You and the wriggling of cables,
intestines crowding and vanishing
In the unfathomable darkness of abdomen.

I have walked past you countless times, and
In the end, I can even safely step over you,
Without having to look at you or knowing

You are there. It is just that my curiosity,
My curiosity has always been attracted
By you and the obscurity beneath. Surprised

By your stubbornness and your dexterity, I
Marvel at how you mock the ambition
Of the whole world, how, after many semesters,

You remain, as fixedly as ever, holding
Your proud and mischievous eye to witness
The centennial celebration of a university.

Sad morning dew falls
On parching crimson petals
Unnamed desires quenched

There are ghost mantises, orchid mantises, dead leaf mantises,
Violin mantises, spotted eye mantises, mantises with name or no name.
He’s amazed at how adroitly they appear
the same as the things around them
But sad for their sense of ease
To become something they are not

Just for survival