Underfoot old bones
of grass creak with frost round
the jaw of giant who fell,
swallowed by hill,
surprised at winter solstice.


What sign makes warning:
"do not leave the path"?
Ground has some power still.
What sun god makes here home
as the ice age thaws?


Children of cave men sick
with nostalgia for bite of granite
fear the monolithic faces
of the fathers they see
in the creases of rock.


What army of brushes moves
like mites on temple walls?
Here is monument of asphalt.
What cement mixer pays
pilgrimage to ancestors?


Echoes of earth wrench upwards.
Old teeth close in a passion.
Men gaze upon mirror.
Watchstone watches;
Sun god is pleased.

Tse Hao Guang is reading Eng Lit and is not yet sick of it, which is always a good sign. He writes post-digital anti-romantic lyric. His poetry has appeared in Ceriph, the anthology Coast, and QLRS. A piece of flash fiction is forthcoming in The Ayam Curtain. He is taking part in the Mentor Access Project under the guidance of Alvin Pang. He is also involved in Microcosmos, an artist-writer collaboration. He was part of the 2012 OF ZOOS Summer Workshop. He hopes to squeeze a chapbook out sometime this year. Phew.