Mainland girls are so materialistic,
some honky tells me.
Shallow. Uncultured. Ambitious. Greedy.
I’ve heard it before from Brit-loving Honkies who
believe everything they been told about gutterpissing
Inlanders – you know they shoot their own
burned the books, dumbed down the language
it’s tragic really how unlike we are
Heard it before from Beijingers bitching out
youngmoney Shangers girls – all smoke and glitter,
just this lipsticked wide open treatyport
trying for fancy with neon and towers
but where are your tombs palaces and poetry
where are your great dead men
Let me tell you about mainland girls. Shanghai girls.
Forget about half a sky, she holding up
the birds who would fold up their wings and die
she the reason fish remember to swim
the moon shy to glance this way
roses without purpose in her presence
& she’s longmarching forwardleaping
hammer and fully sick
big dreams, lost gods
bold of character
I could be & love,
let me tell you.
Your socks, mainland girls made them,
made your SIM card and your shirt
made every goddamn thing
that lets you be
1 November 2015