Takeout Poem
Writer and poet Cao Shuying was born in Harbin in northern China, but is currently living in Hong Kong. PEN/Opp publishes one of her poems—a poem where an unruly rebellious force is ever present: “There is always a child who wants to unbutton all the buttons,” she writes. This rebelliousness coexists with the stagnation of acceptance and a lulling everyday routine that threatens to extinguish any such rebellious impulse: “Take pleasure in the little things and go make some soup.”
There are always fingernails pressed in the aching mud
Night is approaching, seven million people sink into the slow village
There is always a child who wants to unbutton all the buttons
There is always a palm tree you shield as if standing beside your ancestors
There is always some white to be made into marks
Night is approaching, seven million people form teams to kick dreams
There is always a baby who is not cute and pudgy
There is always food that leads to a resistance
There is always hard rain overtaking light rain
Night is approaching, she makes her attack before seven million people
There is always a volcano living on the green grass
There is always some flower to misunderstand the universe
There are always skulls there to support us
Take pleasure in the little things and go make some soup
Night is approaching, seven million darknesses go silent all at once
Give me your ankles lightly touching the ground
Steal the dogs biting down on the post beside you
dogs eating fish eyes,
dogs orchids
dogs voyaging like whales
Night is approaching, imprisoned
in the depths of the apple that the crowd is biting
