--- P H A N   N H I E N   H A O

On the last day of summer when it was very hot I walked out of the house 
with a piece of chalk.  There was only one street filled with ugly houses 
uncomfortably facing each other.  I walked down the middle wearing a 
bronze tintinnabulum so that blind men could avoid me.  At the end of the 
street I stopped.  There I had an appointment with an airplane with a 
single wing, a relative I had met only once, and a prophet who could no 
longer foretell dangerous omens.  He was just a grasshopper with its legs 
broken. While waiting I drew a circle then hopped up and down performing 
the shaman’s rain dance.  As usual all those I was waiting for would 
arrive late.  There was only a child passing by.  He had the look of an 
unused but accidentally exposed roll of film.  Holding a long rod, he was 
beating the ground as he walked.


translated from the Vietnamese by Linh Dinh