Poem: "River Nation [Document 1-A]"

for the ship-wife

I. [VESSEL MANIFEST]

• NAME OF VESSEL:** XIN FU 88 ( 新福88 ) // “NEW FORTUNE 88”

• FLAG STATE: RIVER

• HOME PORT: MEMORY

• CARGO: CEMENT / GRAIN / THE FUTURE'S DEBRIS

• CREW: 2 (ONE MALE, ONE FEMALE. DESIGNATION: HUSBAND-WIFE. DESIGNATION: CAPTAIN-MATE. DESIGNATION: FLOATING CELL.)

• TONNAGE: 1500 TONS OF DEBT

• STATUS: IN TRANSIT. IN PERPETUITY.

II. [TRANSCRIPT: GAN RIVER RADIO TRAFFIC, DAWN]

(static hiss like a dying breath)

06:00: [MALE VOICE, FILTERED THROUGH WATER] “...fog. Always fog. The shore is a rumour.”

06:02: [FEMALE VOICE, CLOSE TO MIC] “The bills are not a rumour. The loan officer’s number is on the table. Beside the tea.”

06:05: [SOUND OF ENGINE, A DEEP, PHLEGM-RIDDLED COUGH] “Start the heart. Start the day.”

06:07: [UNIDENTIFIED TRANSMISSION, POSSIBLY STATE RADIO] “...a great rejuvenation... the beautiful river...” (CUTS OUT)

(silence, then the scratch of pen on damp paper)

III. [THE WIFE'S NOTEBOOK, PAGE 23]

(Handwritten characters interspersed with drawings of knots, calculations, and a child's face.)

清晨 (QING CHEN) / MORNING

My hand on the wheel. His hand in the engine grease.

We are a two-headed animal. A floating 装置 (apparatus).

The river polishes the stones. The state polishes the maps.

Our boat is a smudge they have not yet erased.

中午 (ZHONG WU) / NOON

In the galley, I conquer water. I conquer fire.

I make 饭 (fan) / rice from 记忆 (memory).

He eats standing. I eat watching the radar.

Our hunger is a silent agreement.

傍晚 (BANG WAN) / DUSK

The dock is a mouth. It swallows our cargo, spits out numbers on a screen.

The numbers are never enough. The numbers are a language we do not speak, but must obey.

秩序 (Order). 服从 (Obedience).

He ties the rope. I smile at the foreman.

Our performance is flawless.

IV. [OFFICIAL DOCUMENT: EXCERPT FROM “INLAND WATERWAY VESSEL REGULATION"]

Article 38. All vessels must maintain a clear line of sight and adhere to the prescribed channels. Deviation is not permitted.

Article 39. The human body, when considered as a component of the vessel's operational system, must be maintained in a state of efficiency. Fatigue is a regulatory violation.

Article 40. The concept of "home" is not applicable to a vessel in transit. Sentiment is a navigational hazard.

V. [FRAGMENT: A LETTER NEVER SENT]

(Written on the back of a fuel receipt)

Mother,

The river is wider this year. Or perhaps my world is smaller.

They say the fish are dying. We are the last of the big fish.

Last week, we passed the spot where Old Wang's boat sank. He is a taxi driver in a city now. He says his feet still feel the sway.

My feet are roots in steel. My hands are the eyes of this boat.

The child asks when we are coming home.

What is the translation for “home” on moving water?

Is it this? — 家 = 艹 (roof) + 豕 (pig)

A roof for the animal. A floating roof.

We are the animal.

I send money. I send this letter to the water.

Your daughter,

The Ship-wife

VI. [IDEOLOGICAL APPARTUS (RIVER-FLATION)]

THE STATE: You are a vital component of the national logistics chain!

THE BANK: Your vessel is the collateral for your existence.

THE RIVER: You are a temporary stain on my surface.

THE WIFE: I am the translator between these languages.

I translate cement into shelter,

debt into days. I translate his silence

into a hand on my shoulder, at night,

when the engine sleeps. I translate my loneliness

into the steady hum of the wheel. I am a machine

for translation. My body is the original apparatus.

(My nation is 24 meters long and 8 meters wide. Its border is made of water. Its anthem is the generator's song. We are a two-person dictatorship of love and fatigue. Do you recognize us? Your excellency?)