Signs
Hear Kevin Hong read this poem
Curious about the future,
I hid behind a sign
And spied on an old man
Seated on stone steps.
Between two frittered fingers
His cigarette breathed ghosts.
Ash curled into itself.
It fell like the final hand.
It cast itself, then settled
In no clear configuration,
But he traced the shapes, the muscle
of the trembling, graying span
Like I trace constellations,
A globe, avian migration,
Interstates, lines of music,
Pedigree, cryptography,
Tea leaves, sown seeds,
Cracks and crystal balls,
As if that old man, too, was
Curious about the future.