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Grey Sparrow Journal and Press, as of January 31, 2018 will move to

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Sleeping Among Strangers


They were snorting out of their dreams

but I can’t enter their dreams


Nor do they know there is someone outside

listening to the noise of their dreams with deafened ears


Distant sounds stopped at the curtain rarely lifted by wind

the door was open, no sound in the corridor


except the air-conditioning


Every dreamer hugged his quilt very hard

as if a fluid of dreams were trickling


from their slit throats, ears, seeping

through my sound-wall, like faraway waves reaching the shore


I could only hear, faintly, on this side of the bank

their voiceless howl. Muffling my ears, I went for


a pitch-black, dreamless room in this hospital night  

when each dreamer, turned against the light


played with their own sources of light in their dreams

throwing it on the curtain, making me sleepless 


                                                         -Peter Feng

Prisoner of Time


Behind the illusion-grille, he who exists partially

Reaches out to the wall that also exists partially  


In a rain of errors, everything that goes on, goes on

The rain comes down heavily in memory’s hometown


At home, he sees the meat on the table

He throws it to the shadow; the shadow gulps it down


He eats it too. The eaten meat comes back to the table

In the back he feels a little pain


The grille is radiant like a rainbow

Surrounding him with now. He has his fill and walks around


Reaching out to the wall that appears to him

At the moment of his reaching out


He is thinking about escaping through the leaf while

Back and forth, the wall ticks and ticks


An inundation of time’s rays, time’s shadows

Outside (the) time, it’s utter darkness


The leaf stands still, nothing happens

He who lives part by part is now taking a walk


In a strangely illuminated room, its light

Coming from no one knows where


He is trying to remember. Having eaten the meat

He now reaches out to the wall, again 


                                          -Peter Feng


[These two poems were born out of the current political situation in China.]