Morning in Chinatown

by Suzanne Burns

Originally published on February 1, 2001

Vendors slice the skin of brown boxes,
Releasing the vegetable blood
Of green beans strung like beads,
Closed fists of cauliflower,
Sleepy leaves of bok choy.
Pastries gilled like fishes
Swim in metal bins heavy
With plums and brown mushrooms
Curved like noses and toes.
Movement ensues
As tourists photograph
The lions at the gate,
Regal in their burnished skins.
Bodies press in
Close rows to the windows
Of blue [...]