by Changming Yuan

Water splashing against walls
And windows with each car
Passing by, colored umbrellas moving
Above unidentifiable human legs
Red light blinking towards the storm and
White noise, every cherry tree skeleton
Trying hard to find a shelter, a long-necked man
Hopping around with yesterday’s
Vancouver Sun on top off his bald head
An oversized truck full of
Thick cement pipes making a large turn
As a bus is waiting for strangers
To get off or on, all in wet cartharsis

Changming Yuan, eight-time Pushcart nominee and author of  Chansons of a Chinaman  (2009) and Landscaping (2013), grew up in rural China, holds a PhD in English, and currently tutors in Vancouver, where he co-edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan and operates PP Press. Most recently interviewed by [PANK] and World Poetry [CFRO100.5FM],  Changming’s poetry has appeared in Asia Literary Review, Best Canadian Poetry (2009;12), BestNewPoemsOnline, London Magazine, Threepenny Review and 829 other publications across 28 countries.