For my cousin, 10 years old
Your room smells like a rubbish bin full of
miscellaneously rotting residues of food
like a washroom just had been used by someone
like a durian in the sewer
Like rotten tofu, like someone taking off shirts
after a long distance running, like a laboratory being exploded
a piece of fur being burned
a worm rotted in an apple
a cockroach died in the drainage ditch
Like a fly flying among flowers
like a room being attacked by a skunk
like a bible in the library,
a reclamation depot, a bed
with thousands bugs on it
like Stilton cheese from English
like the air after rain,
a plastic bag on fire, like a hundred
people in a small washroom, like a homeless cat
never had a shower,
the oppressive atmosphere when you zip your coat to head,
Chopin plays “Nocturnes” to the deaf,
the smell of a plate has scented cuisine from all over the world,
like a basket of egg braked on the way home
like birds fly under the high atmospheric pressure
like a mice family coming to your home
and making their own place, like a swimmer
forgot how to breathe under the water, like air in the vacuum bag,
like a 1.8m man stuck in a 1.5m box
like a old cobwebbed house
like the smell I smelled when near your door
and walked in your room rejoiced that I still alive.
