We phoned. Quite analytically we
dissected its molecular structure.
And how it made Grandma Liu
all woozy when she woke.
It conflicted with her porridge,
made her bridge chatter, even if
her gums were doing most
of the work. And you know what
they said? They said it had something
to do with politics. The etiquette of
the matter. Yes, it struck a chord
in the hearts of us all. They were
uncomfortable to say the least.
But what could they do? It was
only a job, after all. You couldn’t
blame them for something that wasn’t
of their own making. Just a soldier
they said, taking orders from the
head office. Would you believe it?
We’d a right mind to write to
our local Party secretary. But then,
we decided against it and drew
Grandma Liu’s morning bath with
that oil that makes her smell of roses.
* * *
Marc Vincenz is Swiss-British, was born in Hong Kong, and currently divides his time between Reykjavik, Zurich and New York City. His work has appeared in many journals, including Washington Square Review, Fourteen Hills, The Potomac, The Canary, The Bitter Oleander, and Guernica. Recent publications include: The Propaganda Factory, or Speaking of Trees (2011); Gods of a Ransacked Century (2013), Mao’s Mole (Neopoiesis Press, 2013) and the forthcoming meta-novel, Behind the Wall at the Sugar Works (Spuyten Duyvil, 2104). His most recent collection of translations is Nightshift / An Area of Shadows by Erika Burkart and Ernst Halter (Spuyten Duyvil, 2013). Marc is Executive Editor of Mad Hatters’ Review, MadHat Press and Coeditor-in-Chief of Fulcrum: An Annual of Poetry and Aesthetic.