Li Yuhang

Club Météorologique






In Club Météorologique



we don't care about climate and weather. we write on tarte-tatins, by punctuation





we gift our Saturdays to each others




to test the echo of this space



we speak our mother tongue



we read our work loud



Le vent gonfle mon balcon



my balcony is swelling



a girl come shout to the people live in the next building
"Heyyy, what are you doing, don't pretend to be dead"




we hang her voice on my balcony by clothespin



til next Saturday