that year I got a full-time job
of entering data in my c.v. and applications

that year my face was against me
I tried to hide it in a book

that year I glanced at my death
when someone bumped into me from behind

that year I stopped writing poetry altogether thinking my life belonged elsewhere

that year no more letters came from china
like a sudden power failure

that year there were many women
and none were friends

that year I scraped all the hard coins together
and started thinking of buying a dream

that year we decided not to go back to china again
because someone by the name of australia seemed                         to like us here

that year I was never able to turn the clock back                  one hour
on the new video set after daylight savings stopped

that year the one by the name of australia said no
to poetry and yes to poultry

that year my chinese poems about australia
were collected in china censored

that year my faxes around the world came back
with bad news and no news about poetry

that year more poets fell in love with fiction-making fortune-making way-making for themselves

that year a.b.c. became c.b.a.
’cause it can’t broadcast a word

that year cut was the fashion
when howard became the heroine and hanson the hero

that year I lost all my diaries
and I had not a single tear

that was the year of rats

(written in the imagined year of 2007)

First published in Overland 152—1998