[Lee Ka-sing: Poem on visiting a friend in the summer time]
The Visit
I saw my visit
the way I see myself
my car pulling up
reluctantly
to his place
my backseat full of lavender
and rams’ horns
for the ceremony
my door opening
onto fortress steps
me skirting his reception bush
brushing aside its eager fronds
It’s no easier on his lawn
my friend has gone to
a voluptuous geometry
he thinks now in axes
irritating curves
a dependence on reckoning
you can’t get to his door
without tasting
the rebuff of dry space
