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Redistribution of Health It was a holiday, when The rich Eagle flew in. It Was the Year of the Rooster. He had done as he was told. People milled and scratched about Street shops, talking about farms, Family, flocks, and work friends. The hospital was ready. When the rich Turkey arrived Almost like Thanksgiving. As He was plucked for surgery Word was sent to the prison, “Women shi zhunbeihaode.” The prisoner was run out with Feathers of agony on His face. His crimes against the People were read, but the real Crime was health. As sparrows Turned to watch, a gun quickly Turned him into a headless Chicken. But with little brain In the spinal cord he fell, Forever, to the good hell. Several aids jumped forward, Like Tibetan Vultures, glee, Clicking their beaks, when the skulls Are smashed by heavy hammers; Dusted the body, useful wings, Onto a canvas stretcher Quickly carrying the carcass To the hospital while tissues Were still fresh, for everyone Was unspeakably ready. A week later, when the rich Crane left, the holiday was Over. Like a child not allowed To watch fireworks, he wondered What had been celebrated. |
Additional Notes:
This poem is dedicated to Harry Wu, who spent 9 years in China's prison camps. He currently tours the USA lecturing on China's use of prisoners in a body parts industry. This policy, which has been going on since around 1993, the Year of the Rooster, is partially responsible for the over 8,000 (official count) executions each year in China. Many of those executed are guilty of very minor crimes, what we would consider as protected by the freedom of speech or of the press. This did not escape the notice of the Nobel Awards last year so that the prize for literature went to Gao Xingjian for his book "Soul Mountain", nor that of the Chinese Government, which harshly denounced the award. But Gao Xiansheng is living now in France, and will not suffer the same fate that Boris Pasternak endured in 1959 from another Leninist state.
The lack of outrage in the USA may be an indication of how much we have sunk into our own cult of death where the expendable or inconvenient are also killed, especially if it lowers productivity. Death is always the logical choice as it is so final.
The Mandarin Chinese (Zhongguo hua) phrase used in the poem simply means "We are ready." I only added it to try and make it clear in what country the execution was being completed. (Not quite clear as Mandarin is also spoken in Taiwan.)
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