Saturday, December 13, 2014


Take a bow
then butt-mate
with the plastic-clean
seat under spotlight.
We really need
to see what is pushed
between the lips.

Back straightened
in solemnity,
two joss sticks,
a bowl of grains
(like in 80s Hong Kong
vampire movies)
in pious hands
for this jaw-dropping,
(around the waist)
fanatical ritual.

It comes in different
languages and fares,
potent healing,
or pleasure-charging,
till your next trip.

P.S.: What's in the title of a poem, really? That is, if this is actually a poem.

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