Editor’s Note: The following is part of a notebook Queer Time, co-edited by Ta-wei Chi and Ariel Chu, which gathers contemporary queer Taiwanese literature in translation. To read the full Queer Time collection, visit its home here.

DISCIPLINE 纪律

Boner

以瑜珈墊在傍晚夕陽
六點三十分洒落的落地窗前
鋪就一方靜謐，舒展
即將結實累累的
斜方肌，三角肌
肱二頭，肱三頭
胸肌，背闊肌 
腹肌與核心 
我解剖自己的身體
為著我那無法解剖的性

手臂的酸蝕感
有那年操槍的記憶
右手旋槍一百下
三轉跳，海鷗飛進
夕陽染紅的大操場
細雨斜打過穿堂
浸濕的黃襯衫貼在喘氣的胸口
前方女生的內衣帶子滑落
掉在斜下去的肩上
亮鋥鋥的黑槍打在虎口
力的擺盪與勢的收斂
使全身的骨頭悚然一驚
短梗青草興奮地搖頭招手
弄濕了我們腳踝上的白襪子

傍晚六點三十分的團練
每個人的頭頂上都有一個
蚊子的氣旋風暴

百摺裙下昂然竦立
無形無狀——
少年般的一股衝動

Chest

高中以後我失去了我的槍
流蘇墊肩，穗花排扣
紅色與黃色的風馳電掣
白色長靴終於越蹬越遠
終於看不到方向

我找到了一座健身房
在滑輪下拉中喚起了
身體的規訓記憶
細胞展開雙臂大口呼氣
我的身體裡有一段鐵軌
和一些鏽蝕的氣味
力量沿著軌跡徐徐前進
時而加速，時而煞車
在力竭時槓片撞激出星火
我是辛勤的打鐵人

肩推的時候有時
肩帶依然脫落——
黃襯衫浸濕的拖沓感
依然困擾著我
軌道沒入草叢時
我的啞鈴在空中拋成了
旋轉的槍，三轉半後
落入我繃帶纏繞的虎口
紗布上染紅了鮮花

我練那怎樣也看不到的胸肌
臥推的胸型集中托高
完美的半罩式弧度
可我多想搗亂那兩坨
白花花的脂肪像
士兵擊碎蛋殼，用吐司
鼓搗進汨汨流出的蛋液

Exchange

清瘦的大地上
胸肌撐破了地表
拳拳之心跳出了心臟
忠實地對待那些曾經
被豐胸與少年般的臉龐
弄得困惑不已的
異性戀女子

我矇住她們的雙眼
聽見隊長學姊的皮鞋在身後
跺跺響起——
叫罵聲響徹雲霄
我就揮動皮鞭
如雨點落下——
只有在表演的時候
他們才會露出燦爛的笑容

請矇住我的雙眼——
請穿高跟鞋踩碎我的胸膛

Blood

深蹲時我的少年
如臨大敵，昂然挺立
肩上挑著苦難的隱喻
骨頭再度磕磕作響
斜方肌、三角肌、背闊肌
肱二頭、肱三頭、
胸肌、腹肌、核心 
臀大肌與大腿肌
雙腳抓地，忽然 ——
兩腿一濕
少年自我體內滾出
一抹駭人的紅

我惶惑地自鏡中看去
一名三十歲女子和她的槓鈴
頹然坐倒在地

They

百褶裙的傘蓋下
一個受傷的少年
捧著破碎的胸膛
頹喪的雙乳
烏青似的墳

我的女人愛我的性
當她探進我的墳裡
洶湧在她的舌尖
像小蛇蜷在斷掉的樹墩上
曬著冬日的陽光

無形無狀的少年
掀起裙蓋走到了人間

走過了操場，走過一段廢棄鐵軌
走入了黑夜，又走進草原
走入我夢中，走向戰場上
走進愛人的身體裡
他行軍，他坐臥，
他的夢粘滿了鬼針草
他在星光下裸睡

我和他
靜靜坐在傍晚六點三十分
夕陽洒落的一張瑜珈墊上，舒展
我們即將結實累累的身體

纪律 DISCIPLINE

Translated by Louie Zhang

勃起

Bring the yoga mat to the floor-to-ceiling window 
where sunset spills at 6:30 in the evening 
Unfold an acre of serenity, stretch out
strong and heavy to be, my
traps, delts
biceps, triceps
pecs, lats
abs and core
I dissect my own body
for the sex in me I cannot dissect

The soreness in my arms
holds the memories of handling rifles in my youth 
right hand, rifle spin, a hundred
rifle spin, three, jump, seagulls fly over
the playground colored red by the sunset
Slanted rain drizzles down the hallway
Soaked yellow uniform sticks to my panting chest
The girl in front of me, her bra strap slipped 
falling off her shoulder—
shiny black rifle, falling between my thumb and index finger
Power and restraint  
all the bones in my body shocked
Short green grass stalks turn their heads and wave excitedly 
bedewing the white socks at our ankles

Group training at 6:30 in the evening
on top of everyone’s heads
a cyclone storm of mosquitoes 

Under the pleated skirt, standing tall and firm
undefined—
the urge of a young boy

胸部

I lost my rifle after high school 
the aiguillettes on my shoulder pads, the frog closures with floral pankous
the red and yellow moving like the wind and striking like lightning 
white tall boots marching away farther and farther 
until finally no direction can be seen

I found a gym
By the cable pull-downs, 
my body recollects the memories of being disciplined 
All my pores, opening up and breathing heavily
Inside of my body there is a railroad 
and the rusty smell of metal 
The force moves forward slowly in the pulley 
accelerates sometimes, brakes sometimes
The weight plates strike and spark when I hit my limit
I am a hardworking smith 

Sometimes during shoulder pressing 
the bra strap still slips—
sloppy feeling of the soaked yellow uniform 
still irritates me
When the railroad disappears in the tall grass
my dumbbells are thrown up in the air
like the rifle, spinning, three and a half
falling between my thumb and index finger where my bandage rolls over
the gauze pad is dyed red like flowers 

I build my pecs that can never be shown
Bench presses push up my breasts 
perfect coverage that hugs my curves
But how I want to smash the two lumps of 
white fat 
like soldiers crack their eggs, dip their toast 
into the running egg yolks

交換

On the thin land
where my pecs grow out of the surface,
the pounding pounds out of my heart, 
serves with only loyalty 
those who have been confused
by the big breasts and the face of a boy,
those heterosexual women 

I blindfold their eyes
I can hear behind me our captains, the senior girls, their leather shoes clicking and clacking—
their yelling resounds through the clouds 
So I whip my flogger
it falls like rain—
Only when performing
can I ever witness the girls smiling

Please, blindfold me—
Please, with your high heels, stomp on my chest, crush me 

血

Squatting deep, the boy in me is
facing his worst enemy, standing tall and proud
shouldering the metaphor for suffering  
His bones, again, start cracking 
traps, delts, lats
biceps, triceps
pecs, abs, core
glutes and quads
Gripping the floor with both feet, suddenly—
trickling down both of my legs, something wet
The boy, gushing out from my body
a smear of red

I look into the mirror, startled and confused 
There, a thirty-year-old woman and her dumbbells
is slumped to the floor, sitting, exhausted  

我們

Under the umbrella, a pleated skirt of a hundred panels
a boy is hurting
arms crossed around his crushed chest 
his lifeless breasts
a bruise-like tomb 

My woman loves the sex in me
when she digs into the tomb I was in
waves of excitement peak on her tongue tip 
like a small snake curls up to a broken tree 
bathing in the sun on a winter day

The boy, undefined
lifts up his skirt, coming back to life

Strutting past the playground, past the railroad abandoned
into the night, then to the grassland
into my dream, towards the battlefield 
They thrust into the body of my love
They march, they sit,
Their dream is covered in cobbler’s pegs 
They sleep naked under the stars

Us 
sitting in silence at 6:30 in the evening
sunset spills on a yoga mat. Stretch out
our body, strong and heavy, to be

Author’s Note: The narrator of the poem recalls participating in the women’s high school honor guard (高中女子儀隊), a product of the Kuomingtang (KMT) government’s political training system. The honor guard aimed to cultivate patriotism and promote military training and education. Later, it transitioned from its original military purpose into performance-based school teams. The honor guard emphasized meticulous individual skills and extravagant formation changes, presenting a comprehensive large-scale performance that included the band, the honor guard, and the color guard.

The honor guard’s selection and training process is extremely strict, but members can go on to participate in large-scale national celebrations and competitions at home and abroad. The narrator of this poem recalls the collective training of a “past” honor guard, which is echoed by the speaker’s individual training in a present-day gym: forming a continuous process of exploring self-identity through the body.

Survey on Female Occupational Injuries in a Fishing Village

一、

“我們家是世世代代的漁民”妳說
口裡嚼著森永牛奶糖
在說到“世代”二字的時候
妳顫笑了一陣
脊梁骨頭一歪
說好想看我乳白色的胸脯
“像月光一樣哪”
脊柱的錯位是塌陷的琴鍵
七零八落唱出一段
貧瘠的愛情
生長在骨刺之間

月明的時候妳擣衣如杵
在節拍上敲打男人的襯衣
砰 砰 砰 頻率
如他抓著妳的頭撞牆
耳畔旋起風暴
蜂鳴如同海嘯
黑潮來了
我們去礁石上採貝

秀姑巒的溪水奔湧入海
男人的船只繫在岸邊搖盪
像繫在妳裙頭的帶子
我熱烈扯放任船只迷航
任憑妳教我測探風的方向
以及撬開海貝的秘訣
我倆吃得一手腥 
在退潮的山洞裡
在貝殼的浪聲中
妳拱起的背正嘎嘎作響
我的遮陽帽飛進了海中

二、

痛是形容詞而不是生活
你搖搖晃晃地追打
跛出了院子
酒瓶敲在牆垣
男人踱出了牆外
銀杏樹長在山邊
銀杏花卻掉在了腳前

醫生在妳背上佈滿電極
埋下的地雷誘引我靠近
我不可抑止地彈奏妳的脊梁骨
撫摸妳嶙峋的骨節 
由上往下第四根
如果能掀開妳的背
把凌亂的脊椎排好
是否妳便不那麼疼了？

三、

我們嗑起了鮮肉包
肉汁從齒間滿溢而出
妳說某年某月的焚風
把行人的頭髮都點燃了
魚腥味混著熱風
一團黏稠壓抑的氣氛

職業傷害，疼痛等級都已載入史冊
我卻帶不走妳的痛
七月是離開的季節
進城的火車靠岸

淺淺的海灣包攏著妳
大武山下妳夕陽似
淺淺地笑
夏天在七月的屋頂上放一把焚風
燒了這漁村女性職業傷害調查

漁村女性職業傷害調查

Translated by Riley Tsang

1.

“Our family has been fisherfolk for many generations,” you say,
mouth chewing on a Morinaga toffee.
When you utter the word “generations”
you flash a trembling smile,
tilting your vertebrae,
and say you’d like to see my milky white breast:
“How like the moonlight it is.”
Your dislocated spine like collapsed piano keys
singing out a measure in total disarray.
Barren romance
sprouts in the space between the bone spurs

In the moonlight you beat the clothes with a wooden paddle
hitting the man’s undergarments to the rhythm
peng peng peng 
like he grabs your head and bashes it against the wall.
A storm spins inside the ears,
buzzing like a tsunami.
The Kuroshio Current has arrived:
we go to the reef to gather shellfish

Xiugulan’s stream surges into the ocean;
the man’s boat sways, fastened only to the shore,
tied like the sash at the head of your skirt.
I ardently tug and let the boat drift off,
let you teach me to probe the wind’s direction,
to pry open the shellfish’s secrets.
We each eat a handful of raw fish
in a cavern left by the ebbing tide.
Within the sound of waves in a shell:
your back arches with a ga-ga sound
my sun visor flies into the ocean

2.

“Painful” is a lifestyle, not an adjective 
You staggeringly chase and beat
And limp out of the courtyard
The liquor bottle smashes against the wall
While the man paces past the wall
The ginkgo tree grows at the mountainside
But the ginkgo flowers fall before the feet

The doctor spreads electrodes all over your back
The buried mines lure me closer
I cannot restrain myself from strumming your spine
From caressing your bony joints
Up and down, to the fourth vertebrae
If I were able to lift open your back
And line up your disarrayed spine
Would you sing me a summer serenade? 

3.

We nibble on steamed meat buns
The meat juice overflows from the spaces between our teeth
You say the foehn wind of some year, some month
had flared the hair of pedestrians:
the smell of fish mixed with the warm wind
a thick, repressive atmosphere

Occupational injuries and pain scales are already part of history
I cannot take away your pain
July is the season of departure
The train to the city pulls to shore

The shallow bay envelops where you stand
Beneath Dawu Mountain, your shallow smile
is like the setting sun
Summer places a foehn wind on July’s rooftop
Burning this Fishing Village Female Occupational Injury Survey

Goddess Transformation

我忘記了我十六歲的身體—
無法可想、無跡可循
她應是雙乳圓白、落下兩粒青梅
掩映在佈滿蒸氣的澡堂鏡子中
我有過的凝視，落在同心圓的乳之弧線上
也曾戲謔地撫觸看她如何身為女人
而地母濕婆、女媧夏娃諸神肆虐眼前
天啓洪荒，我自一片茫然的神話中站起
想著我如何逃離伊甸園
如今，堪比棚下絲瓜鬚根垂條篡取養分
（而我卻非瓜迭綿延，或垂垂老矣）
童年時奶奶換衣迸落的兩粒就這麼植入眼前
慾望仍像丘底湧泉流動，汨汨與河谷溪川匯合
（可恥地慢慢站起來，自泥黑沼澤處）那年
我拿裹尸布壓迫她們 勒緊，纏繞，窒息
不願她們如此美好，吸收陽光空氣和水
還可以和我侃侃而談繁殖，我不再凝視
直到那一天妳毫不客氣將她翻出來舔舐
喚醒沉睡凹底的黑暗
從丘之頂萌發絲絲細膩傳遞全身
如同 雷擊那一震顫
我復甦醒再度欲望、再度凝視
即使鏡子破裂也無法掩飾她
醜陋、垂敗、卻顫慄如春櫻

女神變形

Translated by Sean Y. Li

I’ve forgotten my sixteen-year-old body—
unimaginable, with no outline to trace
She probably had two breasts, round and white, two green plums dropping
flickering in and out of view of the steamy shower room mirror
I had stared, my gaze falling upon the arcs of my breasts
I had also teased and touched how they embodied womanhood
with mother goddesses Shiva, Nüwa, Eve, and other deities ravaging my view
Through primordial chaos, I stood up from the midst of vast endless myths
thinking of how to escape from Eden
Even now, they seize nutrients like a luffa gourd’s whisker-like tendrils
(yet I’m not a gourd extending endlessly nor gradually aging)
As a child watching my grandmother change
the plunge of two lumps was ingrained in my view
Yet desire, like a current from the rising spring at the bottom of the hill
gurgles to converge with rivers, valleys, brooks and streams
(shamefully dragging myself up from the dark muddied swamp) that year
I took a burial shroud, constricting them, tightening, binding, suffocating
not wishing for them to bask in such glory, taking in sunlight, water, and air
and able to blatantly propagate, I let down my stare
Until that one day, without a shred of decency, you rolled them out to taste and lap up
rousing the sleeping sunken darkness
From the crest of the hill sprouting fine exquisite shoots all over my body
just as the tremble from a lightning strike
I resuscitated and revived the desire, once again staring
Even if the mirror were to be shattered it couldn’t conceal her
hideous, drooping, yet quivering awesomely like a spring cherry