"Border Crossings"

by Owen Schaefer 

it’s not far to Lo Wu from here     
by train by car      past dancing aunties
in the weekend market blaring music,
shouts and placards    past drug stores
with toothpaste pyramids   baby
formula on sale this week and next,
suitcases rattling full toward the gate

 or you may cross it unexpected   a wave
washing up round your shoes, or row of police
just doing their job   the pepper spray line
crossed in tears, sometimes handcuffs,
the laws different now than you remember

 or maybe it’s just three men in the back of a van     
outside your office, they escort you
through the book stacks     a visa stamped
in purple, blooming now against your ribs,
and eyes hooded, they drive you north
to a place you thought was years away

 

 

OWEN SCHAEFER is a Canadian writer and poet. Prior to moving to Hong Kong in 2013, he lived in Tokyo for fifteen years. His work has been published in various anthologies and literary journals including Dimsum, Pressed, McGill Street Magazine, Jungle Crows: A Tokyo Expatriate Anthology, and the Hong Kong Future Perfect anthology. He is currently pursuing a master’s degree in creative writing at the University of British Columbia, and is working on a novel set in 1960s Japan.

Click here to read: "Border Crossings"

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