Editor’s Note: The poem was submitted by Maolalai for consideration in the poem section and yet the need for the sharp edged images were felt to add more layers to the words. Maolalai’s friend Gui came forward to share his work and compliment the words.
the city has a hum
like air conditioning
in next door’s apartment –
have you ever been unable
to sleep in a hostel
or an open-door ward
in a hospital?
it seems too consistent
to just be cars going,
too settled and peaceful
to be just the wind
though sometimes it’s moreso
than other times.
I live near the lake in Toronto,
sleep with my window open
and think of the city
as washing with sound
made of waves on the lake
constantly crashing
like the white-noise of coins
falling out of a box.
the world just has a pulse
and a hum inside things
the feeling you get
of old time still existing,
locked inside rocks
and burnt trees.
