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 works in public service, and writes fiction, travelogues and poetry. He has been published by London Grip, and has poetry accepted by Meniscus and Dreich for publication in 2023. Ping Yi is from Singapore, and has also lived in Cambridge, UK, and Boston.
