Postcards from China

"China" by Bob Perelman

We live on the third world from the sun. Number 3. No one tells us what to do.
The people who taught us to count were being very kind.
It's always time to leave.
If it rains you either have your umbrella or you don't.
The wind blows your hat off.
The sun rises also.
I'd rather the stars didn't describe us to each other, I'd rather we do it for ourselves.
Run in front of your shadow.
A sister who points to the sky at least once in a decade is a good sister.
The landscape is motorized.
The train takes you where it goes.
Bridges among water.
Folks straggling across vast stretches of non-concrete, heading into the plane.
Don't forget what your hat and shoes will look like when you are nowhere to be found.
Even the words floating in the air make blue shadows.
If it tastes good we eat it.
The leaves are falling.
Point things out.
Pick up the right things.
Hey guess what?
What?
I've learned how to talk.
Great.
The person whose head was incomplete burst into tears.
As it fell what could the doll do?
Nothing.
Go to sleep.
You look great in shorts.
And the flag looks great, too.
Everyone enjoyed the explosions.
Time to wake up.
But better get used to dreams.

Two postcards from Maike arrived today. On one she transcribed this poem. She says that Bob Perelman created it during his travels in China; he found Chinese books with English captions under the pictures and turned those captions into a poem.

She also writes, Every night couples gather at a small park to dance. My host mom took me out Thursday night. It was a night full of Chinese waltzes and dancing with strangers. I have never seen anything like it before in the States--everyone coming in one place to dance and no one in want of a partner. Look at me, dancing in Shanghai! I even sing with my host sister though I never sang at home...

It sounds beautiful.