Loh Guan Liang (b. 1984)
1. BIOGRAPHY
2. CRITICAL INTRODUCTION
3. SELECTED POEMS
“96”, “Neighbourhood Watch” and “追(Pursuit)” from Bitter Punch (2016)
4. TRACK CHANGES: “Transparent Strangers Again”
SELECTED POEMS
96
When the Chinese uncle
with his cart of burning sand
shouted chestnuts
instead of gao luck,
something inside me shrivelled
to make way for footsteps
freshly fallen after rain,
or a tongue
fallen by the wayside.Neighbourhood Watch
Neighbours ask if she is moving
and she says she is moving on.
They close their doors, cross
reference her alibi with the taped
boxes and black trash bags.
Outside, a shadowy interloper
drags more than its feet
down the corridor.Between the louvres, a tear
in one bag reveals scandals
scribbled on university notepaper,
secrets double-slashed in the margins
to leave no lovers untouched.
A tipoff warns against red herrings,
that she is leaving behind
more than what she is letting on.
There is no escaping the private eyes
blinking, catching the glint of a trinket
and its blunt trauma on her marriage.追(Pursuit)
My Chinese teacher once taught me
that pursuit starts with a dot breaking
the surface, then an upward slash
to the right; the sail must be erect
before the remaining strokes can appear,
junk-shaped, to chase white waters.
When she wrapped my hand in hers I saw
only unyielding sequence in penmanship,
how my pen could only write my life
forwards, not backwards. Now older,
pursuit looks more like a butterfly
searching for its other wing—what
my Chinese teacher did not say
is that we also finish each sentence
with a dot, except that it winds back
to itself, the point of departure
almost touching the point of return.
by Loh Guan Liang
from Bitter Punch (2016)
