An ethnography of Hong Kong (an attempted Ghazal)
-- Monica
“Typhoon eight is hoisted”, once again, where’s your sanctuary?
Hide in air-coned 士多 or アパート! Still, all feels so sticky.
Misty windows, muddy streets, rain dilutes the dog pee,
Own a Ferrari, hire a limousine, Jimmy Choo may defy the sticky.
Breathing in, breathing out, mindfulness waves now and then,
Jostle ebbs, hustle dims, thoughts no longer cling so sticky.
In the mood for love? Fly past mountains, turquoise sea,
Dance, dance, Monica, till worry fades away, unsticky.