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