print previewback DOROTHY CHAN
Composition
5
Hang’s beast with two backs splits into two nudes
lying atop a building, hands intertwined, fingers laced,
hairs of heads touching—opposite:
two axes of flesh, joined by a vertex of architecture—
two axes of flesh, gazing at the white sky—
On White II: the sky looks the same everywhere,
but the architecture becomes collapsed chaos—
white rooftops and white clouds—the black of her hair
touching her double’s, the red of her lips not
touching her double’s—intimacy with hands.
Young lovers in Japan touch, leaning against a wire
fence in front of the 7-Eleven, where their younger
friends chew on corn dogs.
Mr.’s world of phallic clouds and watercolor
looks painted to them, and the pavement is out of
Monet’s cliffs at Étretat dream.
The universe runs at 48 frames per second.