No content, says the subject.
No content, says the subject heading
of my astrologer’s email,
as if to say this year commences terribly
and unremarkably — terrible, terrifyingly so,
because of the unremarkable worldliness,
the workaday humdrum —
and there’s no fanfare or pageantry
No content, but that of assorted numbers.
No content, but a strange rearrangement.
No content, but a quaint repetition, soft murmur
to say there’s no fin de siècle, no room
here for that cloying
sentiment, how revealing.
Number One is a cage of old branches.
Number Two is the Minimalist seated on a stool.
The stool is made of bent wire,
its contours shaped into a kingfisher’s heart,
two heaving lungs and a hunky slice
of grey whale liver, pushed into this small space.
Between them and you, oh Oracle of Imagism.
Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé is the author of an epistolary novel, two hybrid works, and nine poetry collections. A former journalist, he has edited more than fifteen books and co-produced three audiobooks. Among other accolades, Desmond is the recipient of the IBPA Benjamin Franklin Award, Independent Publisher Book Award, National Indie Excellence Book Award, Singapore Literature Prize, Poetry World Cup, two Beverly Hills International Book Awards, and three Living Now Book Awards. He helms Squircle Line Press as its publisher and founding editor.