LUCKY DRAW

He gets a Scandinavian living room set.

He gets an earplug.

He gets a wig.

He gets a floating watermelon.

He gets a nightgown,

and a Chinese chiropractor.

He gets two rich aunts,

and a parrot.

He gets a computer screen,

and a world of red, orange, yellow, blue and green.

He gets a pension,

commissions, wedding and funeral booties.

He gets complimentary tickets to the movies,

invitations to cocktail parties,

second-hand toothbrushes at special discount.

He gets a self-cleaning file-cabinet,

an alarm clock that never stops ringing.

He gets his own investigating committee

formed by two dozen Englishmen.

He gets the chair of the chairman of the Philosophical Society.

He gets the exclusive right of indigenous arts.

He gets a stock that keeps rising

and a building that keeps on sinking.

I am left empty-handed.

Every time I look up,

I seem to hear

people laughing in the distance.

I wander through

dark clouds and intermittent rain.

The dice I throw

score the lowest total.

I buy a newspaper

and miss my ferry.

I sit at the pier

and fish with cigarette tins.

I wait for the next train at the wrong station.

I am a horse

on a highway.

She gets a canned husband,

and a bunch of motorized relatives.

She gets a new set of fingernails,

eyebrows and nose.

She gets the title of vice-chairman

of all associations.

She gets four crocodiles that can sing,

a hippopotamus that sends flowers regularly,

a big hairy tortoise that requires talk.

She gets a hair net.

She gets two bloody hearts.

She gets the kind of vacuum cleaner

her neighbor Asou bought just last week.

She gets identical dust to go with it.

She gets twelve certified university entrance examination approvals.

She gets as bonus

small dishes offered by all the different brands of soy sauces

I am empty handed

sitting by the clogged up river

singing a song off-key.

It is cold

and I forget an overcoat.

In the empty wicker chair

now sits someone

wearing a scarf,

and a flower.

We are tossing coins.

luck is head

and I get the tail.

I am always in the wrong queue,

getting the worst kind of bread.

Our neighbour trendy and smart

has borrowed our flowers for the occasion

and left us the tedious jobs.

People carry off their winnings

and hurry to hide them.

I am still here, walking slowly.

Goodbye, sir.

Goodbye,

madam.

I shout from behind,

goodbye,

pumpkin and corn,

take care not to trip

carrying so many things walking.

But they think I am trying to catch up

and walk all the faster.