the morning brings

puking in the back seat of a taxi
Richard "Smitty" Smith
area branch manager
of Eagle Tools
The Finest in American Craftsmanship
Made in Dongguan but what the hell
gimmes to the cabbie:
A tissue.
No, not that.
Don’t you know?
A TISSUE FOR CHRIS’ SAKE.

Mr. Smith seldom bothers with Cantonese
even though he mastered the beginner’s course
twice
he says the words alright
he understands himself alright
so what the hell is everyone’s problem?

7 years
3 months
14 days
Here a Lan Kwai Fong liver
There a Wan Chai
and now
with orders from the head office in Kansas City
how Mr. Smitty Smith will hoot and howl
tomorrow at Chek Lap Kok
when he boards that plane
for home.
Home goddammit
the U.S. of fucking A.

 

 

 


where everyone speaks English good
where he’ll never have to ride another rickshaw
ask an organ grinder monkey for
ANOTHER TISSUE FOR CHRIS’ SAKE.

Driver Wong strolls around his idling cab
yawns
stretches
parks his elbow on the hood
readies himself for a cigarette


hell of a mess getting that gwei loh home
he’ll clean up the back seat later
right now Driver Wong wants to savour the last of his Marlboros
and the first of the sun
beautiful how it stirs the city
how it sobers up neon
into calling it a day.

Driver Wong recalls a story he once heard on the radio
a Western story
about a foolish man
who made wings of wax
flew too near the sun
then fell
Driver Wong couldn’t remember how far the foolish man had flown
nor where he had landed

could he have been the one
last night
slumping and sinking
flailing and wailing
lost in the back seat
of his cab?

 

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