xu lizhi

i arrived at his death as a translator of his poems about working and living in the factory of the world, shenzhen china. At 24 years old, four years after leaving his home in coastal guangdong province, he had leapt to the end of his life. he had likened himself to objects he handled every day in his working life, a screw. one that, like many others, lands carelessly on the ground after being jostled and handled. he grieved a youth lost in stifling factory walls that swallowed not just his emotions, but his ability to feel:


JM Wong

queer child of the chinese diaspora on turtle island via malaysia/singapore. the point is not to interpret and philosophize the world, but to act to change it

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