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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 :)




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