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The Pedestal Magazine > Archives > ISSUE TWENTY-FIVE: Dec (04)-Feb (05) > Poetry >Arlene Ang - Constable Wu Gives His Halberd to Madame Liang

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It is necessary that they meet in secret.
High grass gathers around the Wang family
mausoleum. Fire can put out a whole line
of river people. This is the place for
spirits, bodies buried without paper money.

He is short, his beard holed in many places.
The marshal has given him two weeks for
the capture of the Zhanchou robbers. Every
passing plate reminds him of his head.
In his absence, his wife overheats the wine.

In the house of pleasure across the street,
prostitutes leave their offerings on
the mistress's table. She has rings around
her fingers, like the foreskins of many
men she has come to recognize in the dark.

What is it about the fortieth year that draws
a woman toward danger? She never accepts
his silver or allows him more than a peek
of her white neck. Sometimes she dresses
as a boy. He says even a thread becomes her.

Eyes lowered, she takes his halberd in
both hands. For a long while, he will be
defenseless. The willow by Mother Wang's
grave shakes its leaves, like villagers
that murmur the torching of adulterers.

Years after, all he will remember is how
his arm grazed the embroidery on her breast
when she turned to walk back through
the woods. His wife will recall how he left
her one night, like one of his many weapons.









Arlene Ang lives in Venice, Italy where she edits the Italian pages of Niederngasse (http://www.niederngasse.com/). Her poetry has recently been published in Mississippi Review Online, Eclectica, Verse Libre Quarterly, Poetry Midwest and Red Booth Review. An e-chapbook of her poetry, Dirt Therapy (2003), is being hosted by Slow Trains (http://www.slowtrains.com).
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