第二首

这不比贾浅浅强一万倍

第三首

有关电话的诗，第二首
当我终于回家
摆脱抛光打磨的假笑
以及，没有诚意的讨论着
进入了吵闹说要谋划一场
繁复混乱的体育比赛的人……
棕榈树围绕的安静夜晚
缓慢移动的淡蓝色月亮
本来应服从某些为数不多的好意邀请
但我强忍睡意，而倾听
在梦的边缘便是孤独，
——即将来临之不会来临。
我恐惧。带着些许讽刺的快乐
我想不起来你的电话号码，
几年前的事。
你也许会在月光下伸手
穿过与之同色的纱帐
轻轻握住电话听筒……
——没有任何结局，我们都知道，
而你知道了，也许立刻就忘记了。
几年前，飘满灰烬的星期三，
我仔细写下十一个渺小数字
在光里，一个墓穴，我们中间。

写得真好，但我只能看懂一点，加油，写自己喜欢写的就行了

我看诗看得太少了，不会看诗

刚写了一首，被封了

like looking through the countless thin little leaves in a rainy summer morning, and you can see the grey dull sky without any edge of sunlights dwell in it through those pale green leaves and in between them the fissures that are bluer just like that one in the dusk I had seen many years ago when I saw you by chance across the busy little road, the class was over and I ran out of the school gate just to not avoid the earliest bus for home. And you walked slowly in another direction to meet your waiting parents I guess. To conceal my nervousness that I was yet to grasp I looked up and figured that the reason why I did not feel the warmness of the sunset is standing under an old banyan tree. And I looked through the leaves like I am now looking, worried about whether I am qualified to have feelings that are instigated by a blurry sight of you. But now I cannot tell what I feel. The leaves are so many and so dangerously linked to the gracile black branches that are rotten in damp, it’s lucky for them this morning that wind does not accompany rain, but who knows what would happen to them the next minute or so……and yet so irreducible as they are, stilled in the early morning. Everyone is still not fully awakened and everything has yet to form its sharp appearance and a shade under the sun, it is at this time my thoughts about you raise a little.

自耕农。

噢燃烧弹
噢他们喜欢不会被打碎的防弹玻璃
噢红色projector的故事只有胜利
和曲折的胜利
并在不同脑叶质地上畅通无阻
Tannhäuser Overture一直响
他们选择击打不断祈祷的老地鼠一直钻，痛呀死了
地上反而更糟，于是诅咒反射在沙子上
如此多的倒影在正午里保持队形
昆虫有一千只眼不会红且雪亮一根神经就够了，跳来跳去
灵魂是清白的清白的不要问了好吗
树林里越来越密红色叶子长在
绿色叶子旁边，渐渐变成尖锐的平面
铅笔画，越来越不耐烦，盯着鲜艳的墙
围着的家里父亲说儿子别看书了儿子跳楼而死
他们选择说话的祖先给予了基因谱写
不用证明了透明玻璃不会撒谎，
他们仍喋喋不休，说“伟大”
他们选择让燃烧弹纷纷投入坚硬湖，
帮凶是淤泥，水笑了，因为消化良好
小且薄且破了说烧死吧烧死吧烧死吧，
（剩下的只有空无的气泡，请原谅我）
燃烧瓶全是水，水说不——
我是给予养分的神秘奇迹，生成并渗入
树林颤抖了，玻璃树林没有果子。
但玻璃无需担心内在、光线
他们选择一团防弹玻璃取代玻璃体
但漂浮在水上的那是什么？
噢你的黑汽油
噢你的脏心脏
噢燃烧弹你哭了吗。

Is there a quick death，oh my
like falling asleep in a cool summer night
a slight cough and meanwhile
a cloud comes out, with modesty,
in the arms of
the silent, vague sky, and
that’s your being, dissipated.
But death is a horror, my friend
Even for LoRD himself, our father.