Poetry of Issue #7        Page 4

KOWLOON

Palm trees ruffling
in the hottish air,

a group of girls
in yellow dresses

bright as butter
and the sad mainland

cousins who believe
they own the world

now, old tenements
dropping like flies

at the start of yellow
plum season,

the umbrellas ready
for use by the courageous,

the high speed-rail
a dragon in its appetites,

dumplings steaming shyly
on the plates of those

who know the smallest
and best establishments,

the parks and wet markets
loudly speaking Cantonese,

the Star Ferry an elderly
relative who is still alive.