by David Harrison Horton
Ode to Qu Yuan
(in which the poplars are fell’d)
The hallway smells like bleach
and I haven’t seen roaches
for days.
Neighbor Li is going on
about his new shoes
he bought at the discount market.
It’s a great day
if you want it to be,
he keeps telling me,
hoping that I’m still listening.
It’s a good day.
Let’s not get crazy now.
And this is for those who’ve paid their rent,
and this is for those who made it work,
and this is for those who keep the family together,
and this is for those who helped someone else,
and this is for those who took a moment
Those look like some real comfortable shoes,
Mr. Li.
Ode to Cecilia Payne
(in which Wes Montgomery played in the other room)
The illness going through my building
gave me a two-day headache
and time to re-read H.D.
I made an attempt at writing
that piece on detritus
Matt Lusk asked for
back in June.
I’m not sure at what point
I started missing every deadline,
simultaneously behind on everything
and in the moment or a moment
or whatever.
You can only take yourself
so seriously.
Nick Rafferty gave me a small oven.
Think I’ll have a wee toastie for lunch.
Ode to the Monkey Hu$tle (1976)
(in which oaths were taken)
If you open the windows
at both ends of the house
you might get a breeze.
Skubal’s accomplishments
would have sounded great
in Ernie Harwell’s idiom.
They’ve torn down most
of the Hulialou hutong
to put up a high-rise office.
When all the months are May
you could just as easily
gather ye rosebuds
as go bowling.
David Harrison Horton is a Beijing-based writer, artist, editor and curator. He is author of Necessary (Downingfield, 2025) and Maze Poems (Arteidolia, 2022). His work has recently appeared in The Belfast Review, Roi Fainéant, Modern Literature and Yolk, among others. He edits the poetry zine SAGINAW. davidharrisonhorton.com