Russell Grant is a poet from Durban, South Africa, living and working in Shanghai. He teaches high school English Literature and is the leader of the Inkwell Shanghai Poetry Workshop, as well as Head of Workshops for Inkwell Shanghai. His work has appeared in A Shanghai Poetry Zine and the Mignolo Arts Center’s journal Pinky Thinker Press.

 

After the Fact

 

for the fallen at Zhengzhou

 

There is water in the creek, and in the sky,

and on his face, he who I watch from above

 

striding abreast the flow which

lumbers towards the Huangpu, mounted

 

by creek birds that hole up in the day

like forgotten promises.

 

He lumbers, too,

sucking at anxious air; drawing ancient breath;

 

burdened: 70% water, 30%

fermented fruit and guilt

 

The surface of the creek bristles in the rising wind

while a ginger cat suspends its cool indifference

 

to chase down shelter

in a vacant guard hut.

 

To the West a father

mounts a placard at a subway station exit,

 

sometime after the fact

and waits for her.

 

Above this, above all of this,

again the coiling sky spits, weeps

 

on towers, on parks, on runners and bikes,

on leaves loosened from their trees and

 

scattered on the concrete,

on the fathers of drowned daughters,

 

and on ginger street cats bristling in the wind

like the ruined surfaces of creeks.

 

 ~

 

Double-slit Experiment

 

  • A sonnet for K, who helped me see again

 

Sunlight on the river blinks,

tracing waves both endless, and startless:

I observe their immaculate leaps

up from pregnant nothingness to sudden

bright peaks

shedding all possible past and future ways.

 

At night I trace your sleeping breath

like a pilot mapping your tireless rhythm

guided along all possible decisions

coming finally on gasping reality to rest:

 

Please forgive me my delayed noticing

and allow us sweetly in this moment to collapse

into a warm and most unambiguous

darkness. To settle the score between known and perhaps

and denounce all possible worlds but one

so we may find stillness before our breathing is done.

 

 ~

 

Longing

 

  • A Daoist Ode to Condiments

 

Longing is the sauce of all unhappiness

She said, the clock adjusting like an uneasy guest

I search for a complement to your ungarnished bliss

 

Be like water, sufficient and saltless

Add nothing to the heartless breast

Longing is the sauce of all unhappiness

 

I grow weary of your philosophied spareness

Is there really no additive, no further drop to test

my resolve to find a complement for your ungarnished bliss?

 

Be like water, sufficient and saltless

Add nothing to the heartless breast

Longing is the sauce of all unhappiness

 

My deepest want, my soberest wish, is

that you quiet, please, this damned request

Longing is the sauce of all unhappiness

I long for an antedote to your ungarnished bliss