what in the world does Mei Ling of the noodle

stall

with the yellow clapboards

do to her fine slippery noodles

what enchantment does she whisper

through the wide gap in her front teeth

over that katha of stir fry

what spice dust does she sprinkle

with her back to me

on my toes 

craning my nosy neck

Mei Ling whirling around and presenting me

with a steaming bowl of her Curry Mee

what spells are intertwined in these turmeric flavoured strands

that bewitch me to visit Mei Ling's hut every night....

if i have a glorious joint smouldering

between my fingers

if i wine and gyrate

between the smoke twirls

and touch myself

and SCREAM at hands trying to encircle my waist

to FUCK OFF

if i want to feel this riddim with myself

if i want to throw my long long dreads

at the night sky

and feel them beat my back

like my ancestors' 

if i feel this foggy muzik twining my limbs anew

and my soul goin' in-out of 

me

if my moist lips are parted

to embrace my sweet spliff 

if my body is pulsating

from the love of my hands

even IF i know i am bad lucky

this is my heven....

the ash face polished his double edged

knife

prehistoric and sharp

ow so sharp!

my mother is singing with the

women

slapping their thighs

screaming about my 

courage

as if i could pull apart a 

lion

by it's jaws

me

the one tethered to these poles 

like a goat

why does that ash face move so slowly...

why is he before my nakedness now

with his stinking ash mouth

white lips covering yellow

teeth 

a skein of false hope

that this will not pain

my body

what if that sharp knife

slips

and I am unmanned 

of my manhood?

when those Chinese fireworks "go off" 

underneath my apartment window

in the middle of the street

witnessed by strings of oriental food

spring up stalls,

and joyful terrible neighbours,

for no reason on this earth

whatsoever

AND on a weekday;

my skin blanches a dirty yellow,

you know, the kind that keeps

the coward sailor

Afloatin',

my heart flips and hides in my tummy

pumping like the panting dog

of summer 

and saliva is dribbling

down my chin

double time

and i twitch and wink

at the raving flashes

that mock the dark wall

of my bedroom

my skin is trembling

like a belly dancer's

and my eyes 

PLOP

out onto the floor

so i'll grope for my vision balls 

and shake my fist 

at you

firework boys!!

the hens of Malaya are a quirky bird,

understand human speech entirely,

walk like humans 

too mockingly in my experience,

peck at rice

and turn up their beaks at worms,

prouder than peacocks,

wings folded behind them,

strutting their ridiculous downy round bottoms,

they know I am foreign

so they chase at me,

my slippers flapping up dirt 

to their cackling delight,

and the entertainment of the yard.

what if I were to whisper

near the wire mesh of their pen

one bright night

when they happen to be dozing off,

that their darling eggies,

the very ones that they sit on and warm with volcanic gentility,

grace every bowl and plate of noodles and fried rice and

fish and laksa

and roti

and oh haahaa 

land quite

nicely

onto my table!

ingredients

1 egg (depends on the old tummy's appetite)

2 potatoes 

1 and 1/2 garlic gloves

1 onion (okay make it half to save your breath)

1 green pepper (because i never eat any egg combo without them)

1/2 carrot (for colour or it will look like throw up! No please continue sorry, i'll behave)

salt 

black pepper

1 lime.

MESS KITCHEN UP TIME

a) pour a little oil in the pan, not butter, oil.

b) swivel it around the pan to gain a little confidence

c) chop the onion or half onion into small dicey pieces and baptise them in the bubbling oil until they are brown with religious ecstasy add pounded garlic to keep the onions company but take care not to keep them there too long or you'll have poison.

d) dice the 'taters into small lego like pieces (do not craft holes into them just dice!!!) and pour them into a set-aside pan containing boiling water. The smaller the size the faster they'll soften up enough to be edible (too bad legos do not sprout from the earth!)

e) after my fashion, dice everything and save time; the green pepper, carrot, leave the salt at peace please!

f) add the above to join the onions in trembling colour-changing worship.

g) add the eggs 2 seconds after and do not let them flatten out in lazy spiffing and what-not. Scramble lightly and let everyone get chummy in the pan.

h) meanwhile those 'taters need to be soft and ready to enjoy being mashed into a uniform pulp. Have the common sense to sprinkle some salt and black pepper and squeeze lime juice into the clumpy mound.

i) mix the 'taters small clump by small clump into the eggs until you judge them ready and witness a fusion of love and heartburn.

SERVE IN A LEGO BUCKET!

ENJOY!!