BROWSE Columns
✕
pencils within green tartan case
in fathomless hibernation
graphite doomed three decades,
cursing my new detritus:
used 6B stub, artist’s eraser
odd souvenir rollerball –
overflowing, split open
the books in my guts
churn torment wraith
unalive, undead
while the outside
jerks this meatcase
shoves drains sears with
charred bouquet of life
driving off after filthy lucre
yawning, monsoon
bucketing down, brake lights
aflame through wet haze;
breakfast, milk, light bulbs, flowers, check deposit
infinite toil before I am
unshackled
stories within me
slumber on
like the rest of the house now;
I seal old stationery
into new grey case,
keeping one pencil free
writing one dream
into the living.
Ping Yi writes poetry, short fiction and creative nonfiction. After a three-decade detour in public service, he resumed his lifelong interest in speculative, humour and travel writing. His work appeared in Orbis (Readers’ Award Joint 1st), Litro (Editor’s Pick), La Piccioletta Barca, London Grip, Meniscus, StepAway, Harbor Review, Vita Poetica, Litbreak, ONE ART, Witcraft and Poetry Breakfast, among others, and is forthcoming in The Stony Thursday Book and MacQueen’s Quinterly. Ping Yi lives in Singapore with his spouse and their son.
