3 Poems by Changming Yuan

Y

yum-yum, you seem to

have become addicted

to this alphabet, nothing but a plain letter

though it may sometimes get you high

high with your skin-colour

as yellowish as the bank of the Yangtze River

as young as a Yankee heart

while its sound can lead you

to the truth you are seeking, its shape

can grow into a huge yggdrasil

where your soul can perch

cawing towards the setting sun 

Corn

A whole body of teeth
Nothing but teeth

To chew the passing summer

We bite off from you
All the pearl-like memories
Tinged with sunlight

A hard but juicy kiss

Directory of Directions: A Module Poem

North: after the storm

            all dust hung up

            in the crowded air

            with his human face

            frozen into a dot of dust

            and a rising speckle of dust

            melted into his face

            to avoid this cold climate

            of his antarctic dream

            he relocated his naked soul

            at the dawn of summer

South:  like a raindrop

            on a small lotus leaf

            unable to find the spot

            to settle itself down

            in an early autumn shower

            my little canoe drifts around

near the horizon

            beyond the bare bay

Center: deep from the thick forest

            a bird’s call echoes

            from ring to ring         

            within each tree

hardly perceivable

            before it suddenly

            dies off into the closet

            of a noisy human mind

West:   not unlike a giddy goat

            wandering among the ruins

            of a long lost civilization

            you keep searching

            in the central park

            a way out of the tall weeds

            as nature makes new york

            into a mummy blue

East:    in her beehive-like room

            so small that a yawning stretch

            would readily awaken

the whole apartment building

            she draws a picture on the wall

            of a tremendous tree

            that keeps growing

            until it shoots up

            from the cemented roof    

Bionote

Changming Yuan, 5-time Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman (2009) and Landscaping (2013), grew up in a remote Chinese village and published several monographs before moving to Canada as an international student. With a PhD in English from the University of Saskatchewan, Changming currently lives and tutors in Vancouver, where he co-publishes Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan (Poetry submissions welcome at editors.pp@gmail.com). Recently interviewed by PANK,  Changming has poetry appear in Best Canadian Poetry (2009, 2012), BestNewPoemsOnline, Exquisite Corpse, London Magazine, Threepenny Review and more than 700 others across 27 countries.