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  • Heung Aiden

Death of the Beast

You think with his death there will be the trembling of heaven and earth, but no, only silence coming from the furrowed field, where He’d been yoked like a beast who was never known to modern machinery. He fought once, twice maybe, but the weight of too much history crushed him, too many orders from those who brandished the whips. In the end, he was tossed into the Yangtze River, though polluted a long time ago, when the industrial slogans flew like conjuring flags above the odor of death.


The sordid land, once bearer of all the sweat and blood and hope, looked away from too hot a sun and sobbed at night — morning would surely fake a few tears.


There were no more beasts, you said, only man to obey and surrender to a force not so natural— an organized force, a ponderous structure above you and me.




*first published in the Bangalore Review

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 © 2019 by Aiden Heung