Old City Homecoming

by Yi Wu

I am the seed that opened its eyes upon the dawn
Spread by dark blue buses traversing through
And breathing at their rear the darkened air of a disquieting night’s
Vacillation between insomnia and sleeping too deeply

I am the seed that was returned to my home known for beds green and brown
Spread out across tens of miles with a roof baby blue
And everyone drank the juice and ate fallen pieces of one another

And days prior news from social media tells me
Some of my family and friends moved too quickly in circles
And the rest stayed still for too long, calcifying into walls

And on the fast lane here I banged my head against concrete

Mud and leftover edibles from my ancestors, now gone
They have made it a sea of grey, then sucked up rainwater
And that was why my bus could reach here
Bringing a tourist to his own homeland now a theme park for some

Doors were welded shut but animals now live on them
Eating the moss grown on them

How much is this like a graduate years later
Denied entry at gates of a building he once lived in and gazed into forbidden knowledge
That illusions are real things lasting for a limited period of time

The specialty housing facility that took a tooth from me
Now resided by many unrelated to past enemies

Layers upon layer Failures that aren’t swept aside by success
Just become a sealed floor, digging things up
Require more than one hammer and many more
Collateral damages and no worthy images to be seen
And madness mixed memories with inorganic matters

And dead moss above ground is buried alongside those eating its bodies
I, a seed, burst into life

Yi Wu writes poetry and essays in Brooklyn, New York.

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