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decreaseWater pipes choking,
A ghost whispering in my ear,
This hotel room,
This cold decaying fear,
I should have gone out tonight,
And drank for the Chinese New Year,
Through bars with shows and poles and cheers,
And clothes that glitter and disappear,
Lost souls who glow and fake sincere,
Those that choose to chase the fear,
The dragon that glows in shows out here,
Fireworks explode, New Year is here,
To be alone on Chinese New Year
Is that movement next door I hear?
Shouting and screaming and laughing,
And singing and loving and fucking,
And drinking and smoking and dancing,
On Chinese New Year?
I see men in panama hats,
Dripping under raincoats,
But there is no rain,
Outside the sun is shinning,
And she has a smile,
A sunshine smile, obsolete,
A coke a cola smile,
A Colgate smile, a kit-i-kat smile,
Who are these Dragon folk?
Who breathe fire?
Who have a gentle lizard bone?
In their nasty green bodies,
And the cars are real,
And so are the people,
And that what makes it,
All so scary,
We walk the streets,
Some of these folks kill,
And some of these folks are kind,
And some of these folks,
Kill their own kind,
There is no Minster here,
No way can we be blessed,
No way will the lord address,
Let’s get undressed.
Past conditions allow us,
To comprehend the shallow,
Dream that we enter,
And that we may regret,
Or maybe not regret,
Maybe it will be our finest hour,
Maybe we will sit in a rocking chair,
Years from now, a purple dawn light,
Leaves in the drive,
Should have been swept away,
By the houseboy,
But the lawn is full of holes,
But so is your soul,
Oh- Don’t get serious,
Poetry died fifty years ago,
But she has no regrets,
We must not let this Christian,
Regret enter us our subjects,
It is not the way to be,
Pour another cocktail,
Let’s get undressed.
Cars are real and cars cross,
Across our path,
Desert stalks Arab tongue,
Haven’t seen a show in years,
Haven’t seen snow for years,
But seen plenty of tears,
Chinese balloons float,
Indian tailors bless,
The streets you walk upon,
Houses made of lizards,
Concrete blessed blizzard,
Unhappy in this thin life,
She used to panic everyday,
Now it’s every hour,
And you wouldn’t even notice it,
She has learnt to hide it,
In her tensile breast,
She learnt to hide it,
In her scarlet dress,
She learnt that Humans,
Like it best
When she gets undressed
And so forth alone the morning,
And thankful for the morning,
For we each had our own motives,
And now they are stale,
Flat like yesterday’s beer,
In a glass that has grown cloudy,
And the first light has promise,
Of the hairy monsters and the Dragons all but asleep,
In the streets there are no dangers now,
Just the hum of distant traffic,
And the whistle of the policeman,
Who cannot control the traffic,
Let alone his own mind,
So she picks up her make-up bag,
And does the best she can,
And sets her hair and leaves the room,
With the money in her hand,
And she picks up her scarlet dress,
And she shakes the garment down,
And steps out of her nakedness,
And with the promise of a better world,
She pulls on her dress.
© Sisterray. All rights reserved.
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