“There isn’t any kind of love that
Would drift away and come back its way”
- Lau Yee Ching

Nightwalkers do not wake up for morning tea
Alien accent of strangers-in-black stops here
Mandarin ducks that last for one night drifts in haze
All such different names for tea
Bringing you nine decades back to Lingnan.
Gleaming new teas and glistening oil lamps
And then it’d be glimmering faces and glistering neon lights.
Picking tea-leaves, tea-servers bow down to make teas
Paying bills, light-seers raise up their head in the night
Look upon for Lord’s mercy
- Right opposite is Tai Tung Estate Company.

“There isn’t any sleeping bag with us
We are forced to drift without knapsack”

They sell:
Unsalable old dreams and passing youth
Un-restorable rosy clubs and purple hairpins
Homeland flags untainted by scarlet red
Sparrows mingled with dragons and snakes in misty spins.
They won’t sell:
Cocotte gazing at embroidered wedding gown in the old shop across the road.
“Foot massage” with a pun intended, would a typesetter be content?
Professional dismantler for dismounting signs are here
But how can you take apart
Those memories of rosy cheeks and cheery smiles?

“There isn’t any footpath that
Could lead to the beyond”

We look upon for Lord’s mercy
Nihility rises with the sandalwood fragrance in Wing Lee Incense
All kept by Po Lei the Pawnbroker
Among them is a Mandarin Duck and Butterfly Genre novel
Written by the very last professional letter writer
Ching Ming photo, instant photo, china photo
Persona and phenomena.
On the other side of the road
Wooden cameras are rolled
But how can you shoot and treat
Those loosen slips of
The pawned street?

“There isn’t a sparkle of wildfire that
Would enlighten the brooks and creeks”

Metals in the name of golden carp, pressure point massage in the name of sparkling diamond
Signs unveil privacy of the true self
You are indeed an advertisement of yourself.
We look upon for Lord’s mercy
Shanghai is missing on Shanghai Street
But names of flora and fauna are there to greet
At Golden Rose Karaoke you can sing
Sauna surging from Breaking Waves and Golden Jasper
In the forest can you see buckhorns swing?

“There isn’t any fruit of wisdom that
Still grow on the tree”

We look upon for Lord’s mercy
Like the young sailor
who walked out of Harbour Hotel six decades ago
Madrid and Louvre are both on Shanghai Street
He’s only been to Mount Luofu and Cape Hope though.
Neither did he turn left to Lo Hung Kee for incense
Nor turn right to Snake King Yuen for nourishment
Definitely not visiting Councilor Hui for political concerns
Dare not take a glimpse on the goddess with the four light tubes Naked in shocking pink, shinning in the staircase
His heart beat like a bouncing wild fawn
Its name is not Lee Kung Man for sure

“There isn’t any serpent that
Would reveal the secret again”

You would have been able to hold the fawn
Because you were a tea farmer per se
Back in time at Lingnan
Look upon for Lord’s mercy
For a fisherman’s daughter six decades back
An embroidered wedding dress was bought and packed
You wanted to tell her that Lai Tsuen was not a sauna
Rose Garden not a night club
It was the time when the Queen was 28
The Queen was not a commercial group
But the name of a long street
She was just dressed in her bridal gown

There isn’t any voice from above that
Would tell us, love can happen time and time again