Stanford Cheung, THE WORD REN

Ho|ma|ge to the Blue Sonata, image by Daniel Y. Harris 

THE WORD REN

In the blues

shaping glyphic humans,

courage upon the arrival of western birds,

      knitting one

           to each other,

     among vast pewter

                     

            mount

                        a

                           i

                               n

                                    s

            .

sheer density              across winds

of gravel                     these little travelers,

picking up                  learning so

much                          about society,

even lies                     became an

                  imperative.

Dipped in mosaic orange, species nesting

a litter from afar, just how many words form

trousers. I said trousers iron a hook, baiting

human’s symbolism.

Half in tune                        the unity

of squeals, arched bridges hung the neck

of the sky, I can

now envision clearly.

A fuse.

.

Drink from roomy tubes.

Eye it like I who

          fiddles with contexts,

cited when above,

embracing

that of flesh,     

        which cleansed salty upon lifelines,

in the     ( c  l   o    u     d     s)

my head proud strumming the neck

of geese just loving how brave you were.

—Stanford Cheung

Stanford Cheung is a poet and musician from Toronto. He is the author of Structures from the Still (Akinoga Press, 2018). His chapbooks include Any Seam or Needlework (The Operating System, 2016) and Kite Extension (Words(on)Pages, 2017) and Comfort of Malice (Inspiritus, 2018). He resides in Montreal.