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It's raining outside but there's
Nothing passionate about it.

That is why my wrists turned cold
And ennui filled the room;
Why the symbols surrendered
With their heads bound high.

Or why we held our biscuits hostage
Against their wish.
(Mighty ransom.)  That's why
We attacked the "bureaucrats" on papers
And wrote verses. All bad.

(Look now, how the weakest rhyme
And I drew bonds like couples
Of phonetic acrobatics.)

Never mind. Got another café to go to
In five hours. One with a better name.
And friends to meet. Better company.

I was attentive:
As the last track ticked the air
I felt life conveniently complete.

Dale Chou
2005-06-27