BALLAD OF QUEEN’S PIER

Together we suffer cold wind, harsh rain.
Together we’re cloaked by stars, crowned by the moon.
—Chao Yiu-fai “The Queen’s Knaves”

That night I saw a fisherman lower a white candle

in deep water off the pier, lighting a path for the spirits.

Woo-oo, I’m a breath of wind, loitering a moment, don’t want to leave.

That night I saw a chess player scrawl characters on a chessboard,

like a Kowloon calligrapher’s sprawling script, each a mystery.

Woo-oo, I’m a breath of wind, loitering a moment, don’t want to leave.

That night I saw a dancer dance, her white dress

a flowing cloud, but overhead a gold monkey, glaring eyes, gnashing teeth.

Hoo-oosh, I’m a drizzle of rain, pattering, don’t want to leave.

That night I saw a widower drum a pot and sing,

clear and strong as forty years ago, a young man with no qualms.

Hoo-oosh, I’m a drizzle of rain, pattering, don’t want to leave.

“Together we’re cloaked by stars, crowned by the moon.”

Tonight I’m burning letters at the pier,

from a thousand building spires demons rise.

Together we boil the rain, ignite the wind, conjure from a furnace winged frost.

How absurd! I’m just one man, gnawing my fingers, scribbling in air.