the Ocean Park at 8:27 dusk or dawn
the colours who is flirting, frisking, frolicking with
the amplified speed of musical sounds
the memory of the merry-go-round . . .
you muttered to my locket (did you not?) for new photos.
i had given you, i murmured to your queer eye (oh dear left or right?), the new photos.
you tittered: by new photos, you meant photos taken with my
new (it was your ‘new’) Nokia cell.
i taunted: those photos were taken with my
new (it was my ‘new’) Nokia cell.
no sweet surrender. ne’er. ne’er.
the balloons. caught in the uphill of Eason’s ferris wheel. flicker. flitter. flutter.
outside Pacific Coffee, perchance at the other end of
the Pacific Ocean. 12:18. when time was
long. time was wrong at who and who’s playground
still the memory of the merry-go-round . . .
i spoke to your perfume (transparent or indifferent?): how do you fancy
Yuan of Half a Life?
you nodded or shook your head: I’m not an aficionado of pseudo-romantic plights . . .
the metamorphosis of your mouth, the curve of which cared
naught.
gone was the pulse, gone was the beat, gone was
love’s sublimated heat. hereafter or
ne’er ever after.
your melancholic perfume, my not-so-fragrant spleen.
the balloons. fall. fell. fallen. pregnant with old tunes.
9:19 the velocity of Central’s escalators,
who are lifted to the Peak of Bauhinia? who are
drawn to the abyss of the bygone past?
still the silent memory of the merry-go-round . . .
you basked in the mellow, which was the string of your guitar. apathetic you were tothe string of my heart’s chamber
you chortled (you always did)
I scorned
you smoked
I sighed (alas!)
round the marred merry-go-round. the balloons of
lost times. lost paradise.
round the marred merry-go-round. i am but a
circus clown (attired in memories of four pounds):
‘Merry merry-go-round!’
Kelly Ying-nga Tse is a student from CLIT2018 Critiques of Modernity 2008-2009 second semester.
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