Be troubled by the shadow of flight
You're flashing.
I will never come to you again.
The cold disappointed me, too.
Many years ago, before icebergs formed.
Fish once surfaced.
Sink for many years
I am very careful.
Through the slow-moving night
Lights flashed on the steel fork.
Many years, lonely.
There is no clock in this room.
Those who leave will take it with them.
Keys. It's been years.
Whistle in the thick fog
The most suitable modern poetry for reading Part II: Portraits of young poets, inspiration drawn from cuffs.
Endless, you
Walking day and night in long sentences
Hutongli, you
Born old
Although the ambition is still there
Marginal growth of baldness
You, take off your false teeth
More like a child.
Turn around and write your name on it.
On the wall of the public toilet.
Due to stunting, you
Swallow a few hormones every day.
Make one's voice docile
For example, the cat named Chun next door.
Nine sneezes in a row
On paper, you
Never mind repetition.
Besides, money may not be clean.
But everyone likes it.
The fire truck roared wildly.
Remind you to like it.
The moon that pays the insurance premium
Or praise those who didn't pay the insurance premium.
Heavy axe
More weighty than thought.
It's too cold, man.
It's dark at night
Like a big toe with frostbite
You are too numb.
hobble
In and out of the Woods by the roadside
Meet those who hold laurels.
Every tree
Owl and every tree
Meeting acquaintances is a headache.
They always like to bring up the past.
In the past, me and you.
Everyone is a rotten fish.
The most suitable modern poem to read 3: stranger, you are in the museum.
On the hard marble floor
I fell, my shoes.
It's very good to slide on the frozen river.
Far away, I'm sitting on a boat.
I seem to be dizzy.
Keep dialing.
But I don't know who to call.
The bell rang three times after work.
With the silent stream of people
You stared at the red light in despair.
Sunset in the tropical rain forest
Charming, me
Turn the banana skin gloves over.
Shake off fine sand and cigarette dust.
Shave off the lonely beard.
Foam with soap
Splash into a blur
On the mirror, you step over the puddle.
See that strange shadow?
Behind it is the sky on the billboard
A glass pigeon
Fall to the ground, I
Hide under the bed and look for it
My hand was cut by the twinkling stars.
Dim cinema
You have candy in your mouth.
A tragic story
I turned on the light in tears.
Leaned against the door and smiled.
There are too many opportunities to know you.
Looks like we're not
Stranger, doorknob
Turn a little.