Friday, April 10, 2015

At Hawker Center

Chicken Rice

Green plate of greasy fragrance

Comes to the table without formality

Table with strangers and plastic chairs

Only food really matters here

Steam is rising from pale on pale

Sink teeth into tender gelatinous

Blesses the tongue of the moment

But lift legs suddenly

As roaches scurry past

Shiver runs down spine

Reminder of no place is perfect


Dress

Getting stares at the cropped hair does

Not mean frills and flounces are a must

Nor heels, skirts and war paint

Knees are still there underneath trousers

So are twin peaks too

Even with pinstripes and suits

Will be cool as Coco and Marlene

Genderless is the new black

Nothing needs to be cured


Lip Balm

The tissue wipes away the balm

Leaving dried twigs on the mouth

Like angry red ants crawling on fire

Biting to appease burning anger

Getting stares again at sausage lips

Off to the Chinese medical hall

For quick and old-fashioned relief

 

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