Six Poems
by 蒢楀栟 Ee Bing Tsu
Floating Village
Smatterings of roofs like wide brush strokes
A layer of zinc carpet on the coast
The rolling golf course looms over you
They will never be your hosts.
But do not fear! the sky lays gently
Over you like a blanket
And the palm trees listen to your misfortunes
As you feast at the poor man's banquet
Homewreckers
When you kissed the graze on my knee i cried
It actually hurt more, but i didn't want you to stop
And when we bumped our foreheads so hard
I had a bruise for days
you couldn't stop apologising.
I tried not to talk about your scars
Fred in the backyard melted under the heat of our palms
his children came out sad and slushy
We broke the washer
I don't remember who did it but we've both forgotten now
it still doesn't drain properly
You made me dinner and burnt the oven
So I broke a plate while washing up to make things even
i bandaged my own wounds and you swept up the pieces to cradle
in our arms
No one ever kissed the grazes on my knee
until i stared in wonder at your fireworks
and your frozen peas
and your fierce worry
and me
Erstwhile
would like to be
a rock in a river
marbled and marked
naught but a quiver
stock and still and with a tremor
skip across the water’s skin
shake off mud and sweat and salt and
drink with wet and sloppy chin
eyes watching the sparkling shimmering
scintillating sun rays smiling
swimming sinking soaking shining
leaves and roots and lichen growing
Or perhaps I shall sit;
observe from afar.
A bitter au revoir, for
I’ve forgotten what you are.
i don’t want to get better
i chuckle as you hold my hand
my tears begin to drip
and you cradle my face, kiss my eyes
my heart begins to trip
it's alright, you gently say
pulling me closer in your embrace
i'm enveloped in darkness
but it's warm so i think i'll stay
you hug me and the river flows
for you, for you, always for you
what else am i to live for
but your vortex eyes, dark blue
you drain me of my love and i give
everything, anything,
i love you
i love you
please don't leave me
i love you
tiny car
i spent my money
on a tiny car
i don’t know why i did it
tiny cars don’t drive
they don’t take me where i want to be
but i spent my money
on a tiny car
it’s sitting on my desk now, staring
at me, judging me for spending
my money, on a stupid, beastly thing
that will never, ever let me reach my dreams
and as i cried on my desk right in front of my car it spoke,
and comforted,
and cherished
me
i hope i can hear the laughter from the next room
i hope
when i die
i can still see the warm strip of light from under the door
and hear the faint sounds of late night tv shows
it will be okay i've slept alone before
i hope
when you die
i can still smell breakfast that's impossible to ignore
and hear you making coffee down the hall
promise i won't be scared anymore
BIO: In between copywriting and proofreading, Ee Bing enjoys messing around with her instrument collection, speed-writing poetry, and worldbuilding for the sake of worldbuilding. She can be found on tumblr at eebingtsu.