Marie Kazalia / Poem

Communication Pressures in Hong Kong

Lightning flashes through closed eye lids
searing white fading to a diminishing point
surrounded by black
lying in his arms on a hard bed inside a boxed stack
five flights up, no elevator, shit!
above and below other concrete boxes in a row
towering concrete
leaning against other stacks that line both sides
the filthy street below
ceaseless Cantonese jabbering, mechanical electronic noise
I can no longer screen out sounds
or pass between them
it's all become too familiar
moves right through me
We eat the same meal day after day
He want's me to lavish him with love and gratitude
His shouts and bullying let me know
my brand of craziness he doesn't understand
tries to change me with his anger
holding back his threats
He's afraid I'll leave him but doesn't talk about it
in a downpour of a tropical depression
Lightening flashes
HIs semi-soft penis twitches, fills and swells
against the right side of my knee
I bite my teeth into the flesh of his shoulder
He turns to me, pulls me close, I rub a sensual pattern
up and down his back
Lightly rub his closed lips all around his mouth
in the morning he'll be happy, but he doesn't talk about it
I want him to love me lavishly but fear his impetuous anger
his culture, his volatile youth, his brand of craziness
his rubberband-stretched-extremes
Last weekend he fell down on the floor drunk
could not pull himself up
vomited over the edge of the bed
Then, the next he's off at a metaphysical healing seminar
where power is transmitted through palms and fingers
but he doesn't talk about it

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