on the eve of National Day, raining revolution for national day, in honor of Chairman Mao... Some worker’s trailed a red line to trace his steps across a shopping maze still rising where the city, ravenous, has reclaimed the sea. He did not count on another Theseus with the same line to make a crossing where, no doubt, a deal could be made. Every stone in this city is planned, but there is always something. The place cultures possibles while Deng smiles. There is a gray cat on every corner. A surplus army of mice grows fat on leavings from some cat’s table. They eye the tangle behind them, see no reason to turn, no revolution now. Shenzhen, September 2009 SS next>

this is the speech of my hands poetry by Christopher (Kit) Kelen and Steven Schroeder | images by Kit Kelen