to give the thing a name that belongs to something else
I whom the dogs trust
dog you all night
under my arm
so many new years days
to mark per year
my fingers hurt
from stroking the sun
these sulky strays
lick
my tongues
my hurts clean
as an echo
rippling through the valley
how can I thank them?
where will you be then?
Copyright © 2021 by Hao Guang Tse. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 14, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.
“I wanted to get to the heart of one who has many tribes, many languages, yet feels alone. Or: and therefore feels alone. Loneliness couldn’t be the end of it, though. Hope and absolution had to be offered, even if as questions without answers.”
—Hao Guang Tse
Hao Guang Tse
Hao Guang Tse (谢皓光) is the author of The International Left-Hand Calligraphy Association (Tinfish Press, 2022), and Deeds of Light (Math Paper Press, 2015). Hao was born and raised in Singapore, where he continues to live and work.