Knowing the Tang



He loved her and he didn’t know it.

She loved him and she didn’t know it.

So they both got married to other people and enjoyed it.

Occasionally, they would meet at parties.

They would sit and talk and drink and talk

dying to dance a slow jazz number with each other.

Sometimes she or he would ask: “Care to dance?”

Sometimes he or she would answer: “Do you know The Tango?”

And they would both laugh

and clink glasses

and drink and talk

and then go home

and secretly practise

every step of

the Tango.

Two Minds


Two minds were necking on the beach one night.

One mind said,

“Darling, Darling, hold me tight!”

The other mind said,

“Gotcha! This one’s a sure thing, all right.”

Of course, neither of the minds actually heard

what each other said.

They merely imagined they heard it.

Deeper into the moonlit night, the tide was rising.

As the weather turned colder,

their imaginations grew wilder and bolder

by each wash of the waves.

Suddenly, in a flash of thunder and lightning,

one mind leapt upon the other mind, on that beach,

and sucked on its cells like a vampire.

The left hemisphere of the predator mind locked on tightly

to the right hemisphere of the victim mind.

A wave crashed recklessly upon a rock.

Storm clouds argued heatedly. And then… surprise !

The left hemisphere of the victim mind sucked back tightly

on the right hemisphere of the predator mind.

The victim mind became the predator mind.

Cosmic tissue mingled and meshed like saliva

and other bodily juices on the beach that night.

In the morning, scraps and remnants of both minds

lay scattered among the seaside sand, exhausted.

A baby mind stood close by.

Strong, agile, rebellious.

Disdainfully, it kicks aside a stick of marijuana,

ready to fly. And away it went.

She Thought


“He stood there like a young Greek God,” she thought.

“He, standing there like a young Greek God, looked muscular, sexy and intelligent,” she thought.

“He, standing there like a young Greek God, looking sexy muscular and intelligent, is bulging like a horse beneath the towel,” she thought.

“He, young, Greek, God, sexy, muscular, intelligent, bulging like a horse is taking his time, is smiling, is torturing me,” she thought.

“He young, Greek, long, hard, strong, mounts me, fires his throbbing boa constrictor into me, God, sexy, muscular, intelligent, slavemaster, young, Greek, stable-job, steady-income, pumping like a mad Italian piston into me,” she thought.

“Omigod, Greek, young, muscular, sexy, intelligent, black slave, drives a yellow Ferrari, long, strong, proud, clean, He, banging banging, hot thick, rooooaaars like an engine, shiver shiver shiver, Greek, young, hard, shiver shiver shiver… Oh God Oh God, now, now, now!” she thought.

“That’s the problem with her:

She thinks too much,” he thought.

Towards a Distant Karma


Ages ago,

when we came out of 
the cosmic void,

we were lovers, do you remember ?

As lovers of land, we made things grow:

You kept the accounts,

I collected taxes.

The stars were so bright

those ancient nights,

it was beautiful.

How brave we were then – do you remember ? –

who refused to unlove each other when we died;

holding hands on the deathbed,

every last sucking breath

was time taken away

from the relentless kissing.

And what do you know?

We came back again as lovers.

Back again, as climbers of rock,

we played out a new karma on the ropes

a thousand metres

up the side of that sheer cliff. Remember?

We shouldn’t have done

what we did that day,

my eternal love.

The sky was such a perfect blue.

And hanging on that rope we should have meditated

and conserved our energy, and climbed;

Instead we fucked and slipped

and plunged and smashed

into a thousand pieces on the rocks below.

So, back again – never having learned the lesson –

you the teapot, me the tea;

you the dolphin, me the sea;

me the condom, you the pill;

time, like a bulldozer on a hill.

There she sits,

There she stands,

There she pays the bill, tips the waiter,

There she’s going – there she goes


She’s gone.

Stilleto heels

clicking on the hard pavement

under the cold grim light.

But no.

We never listened.

Recycled souls,

filled to the brim with past pain;

scars, like maggots, in our brains

we meet in the halo of the blue street light –


bargaining hard, wanting to see the merchandise;


telling me to fuck off;


vaguely remembering each other from somewhere in the past:

Perhaps a client, perhaps a friend,

or, perhaps, even a lover.

Yes Yes Yes

Come Come Come

Listen listen listen:

Tomorrow morning, when you look out the window

while I am still asleep,

the garden will be filled with tonight’s dew.

Don’t worry about it.

It’s just the world,

shedding another tear,

towards a distant karma.

My Facebook liked your Facebook too.


My Facebook liked your Facebook, tanning on the beach.

Inside, I felt you drowning, but you were out of reach.

By the time I read reviews, and grabbed the life-saver app, and installed,

registered, signed-up, entered all my preferences, and got my password set,

no matter how I kept on liking you,

you were so, so dead.

One of those online disappointments, that made me feel so blue.

I feel a whole lot better now,

to know you like me too.

My Facebook met your Facebook

My Facebook met your Facebook quietly in the night.
First, they had coffee, and then, 
a bottle of wine.

It was after midnight, 
and both were feeling fine.
When it came to 3am, they had forgotten every warning.

They kissed and touched and grabbed and tweaked,
and got married in the morning.

The priest who read the wedding vows, 
was praying true and deep,
for Facebooks gone on honeymoon, 
while we were sound asleep.

Another brownout hits the fan.


Some day when you are no longer around,

and life is harder,

when days get hot, and nights a little colder,

I want to be in another place too.

Another place where it is not as dim,

and the lights do not lose so much power.
You may not wish to tell anyone where you went,

and I may not have the will left to ask either.
The road can be long and crooked,

when the ones you seek might not wish to be found.

It may be time to stop, just stop,

and no longer be around.

I Wish My Spiritual Guru


Some days I still feel like living when the pulse in my wrist is strong,
reliving our buried days in heaven,

and the nights, y’know, hot, long.

You may have already decided, before I turned to fall asleep,
how you needed to cut: how sharp, how jagged, how deep.

Hence, my suicide was self-planned for the crack of dawn,
when I softly said goodbye: sentimental, apologetic, bittersweet –
pretending not to catch the razor sharp aclarity of your one open eye,
as you pretended to be asleep.

There, I left my only chance to ever claim forgiveness,
because your heart left my heart, because my heart had left you then.

My spiritual guru already warned me long ago
that bad things like this could happen —
the who and what and how and why.

How come I didn’t ask him when?



The message I received was clear as a bell:
“Be like a happy child, or die deep in hell”.
The wording I feel, was a bit too strong.
But there is no time to discuss the right and wrong.
If you want to sing, sing it loud and long.
If not, leave, do not hold up the song.
I had no choice, because any fool should know,
Hell is not such a trendy place to go.
So with a heart dipped in the honey of life ahead,
I let a bee land and take off, and land again, on my head.




有歌放聲唱。 愛似沙, 情似浪。


Endings from which none may escape…

Hangmans Noose

Hangmans Noose (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

when the way gets twisted
and scrunched into
a narrower and
narrower and
path so
gotta tear
your way out
not even thinking
of who might be on
the driveway when you- two secs, the jury will be arriving unanimously
at the verdict that your sick, sorry ass is so guilty
you will hang high - so help me - for even tryin'
to end it all - kickin', screamin', beggin', cryin