Family dinner

Pepper—grains 
Tumbled and rolled, inside the smooth
China, and occasionally—

Everything walked backwards
From this point on, I just 
Tripped a handful of them on the tablecloth.

I wished 'twas a lucid dream but
They were far from plain. 
They smashed into each other lividly, 
Stinging sniffles and tears—
Yes, they were
Very good at tugging them
Out of no where, these little ruins
Of the past that I thought I've
Long seized to care. 
So there they stood before me, 
All of them: the vast territory
Of tablecloth; a tower labelled 'Pepper'
In mahogany curves—paralleled to 
The horizon and four square-making edges; some
Other structures—unimportant; 
And the multicoloured beads that
Scattered everywhere, 
Making a mess, 
Reminding the air. 
Flights of the mind moved
Like those heavy copper pendulums. 
I noticed these things 
Because ever since I knocked over it
I've kept my head low—and 
If you were small, you'd 
Remember little things, too. 
We often apotheosise history when we don't
Remember much of them, but now I do.

So, naturally it was
No longer coloured in crayons. 
The seeds of mischief have recalled
Them, and these firebrands light my way back
To that pale green closet.

'No, let's not go back to that.'
I cursed at the direction
Where my thought was heading. 
Then, inundated; swoop-swoop—
Wiped and sent them down—to the floor
Where my poor sight couldn't notice;
Smiled at everyone; 
And resumed.

Dale Chou
2001-01-29