At the Gates of Chinatown....
When you procrastinate from work sometimes its surprising what you can come up with, so I decided to have a go at some poetry, which I haven't really tried before, and this is what came out of it:
At the Gates of Chinatown
At the gates to Chinatown,
Exotic flavours with a local twist
meet and greet,
on a pallet of tarred streets and jacaranda trees.
The smells and shining lights
stuffed down the sidestreets
entices an animal with a thousand minds
as it weaves its way past sizzling, tempting sights;
a million thoughts, ideas, that take flight
some high as the eyesore heights
that I behold to my eyes.
A lady asks for a tenant,
"good room, close in town, cheap to let-"
I enquire, she shoos
me away. "Not Asian" she'll say.
"I'm Cauc-Asian", I reply; forswearing any chance of a deal.
The departure gates stand firm, its foundation strong;
Neon lights dance to sounds of a dongxiao song.
Its obviously very early days with this, but hey, everything has to start from somewhere :)