Things I’ve Discovered in Hong Kong
Semantics: clue that Trappist Dairy Milk Drink is not milk—had I read the label—
use of a Christian cross to shill purity milk drink 十字牌牛奶.
Finished the last snacks from Sahadi’s and the last of my beloved’s baked goods.
I am now adrift in Cantonese.
And yet, who am I, pleasantly melancholy at Lunar New Year, compared to another
appalling forecast back in New York for “Ice Pellets”?
The soul is a mechanical operation, the spark of life keeping the body in animation.
But also the essence of innumerable bowls of pho.
Think of all the fried chicken that went into making me.
A little schmaltz wouldn’t kill you either.
I have only ever had a propensity to change. To order within change.
And to change without order.
Can remember every drink of water I’ve ever taken.
Wish I couldn’t.
Until the dullness settles in, I notice the hardware. Regard the plumbing.
The doorknob is a school. It’s not much, but I’m new here.
