L. Acadia
that night in Kenting with you
to L.
we wore sharks,
opening our legs to the waves—
whale maws,
our hair sieving tricks and
lies like baleen.
‘Those waves…’
you squint out towards
squidboat lamps’ dizzy apologetic bows
smiling wry or rye?
Whirled in three whiskeys’
undertow, I make out in
reality’s zoetrope:
Oceanid lapping up our legs
licking stings
sandburn tattoos and
jellyfish glyphs
their oral arms—
flagella
whipped over
our thigh flesh
Culture Shock
Valuable for absence
of obstruction.
Utility
and threat
both deriving from
possibility to penetrate
impenetrable walls
city apartment claustrophobia
safety
disorientation, cut off from
vagaries of day and season
you mean,
distraction, UV and pollen
air
pollutants, humidity, heat
at night,
osmanthus and jasmine
neighbors’ cooking smells
and eyes prying like crowbars.
Conspicuous by its absence
of visibility:
Best to
curtain, bar, cement over
O, I wish my room had
a window.
L. Acadia is an assistant professor at National Taiwan University, Taiwan Literature Base 2024–2025 Writer-in-Residence, and best-of-the-net-nominated member of the Taipei Poetry Collective with poetry in JMWW, New Orleans Review, Strange Horizons, trampset, and elsewhere. Connect on Twitter and Instagram: @acadialogue
Copyright © 2025, Taipei Poetry Collective | TPCReview | All Rights Reserved
TPCReview 