More old writing
12 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
McD’s on a Moped
We hit traffic on Zhojin Rd
An old lady swivels on her feet,
her apron blowing, it’s a grey
day.
Buses, tour groups,
leaders holding flags – one has a flower.
Taxi driver beeps.
This happy happy
precious New Year
is brought to you by
20,000 gods and pepsi.
Walking along and I get a whiff of
something really stinky, to my white nose anyway.
Ni Hao, Ni Hao,
exchange the paper he has a wispy goatee I notice.
Thumbs up, check!
go old V.W. go!
I love these older taxis, they ride a bit rough and have that old car smell, reminding me of my first car.
He strokes his wisp at the lights.
A small girls runs in front of us at the intersection, luckily we miss her.
Three little boys walk along – they look cute and wonderful. A mural, a new apartment block, much less advertising than Seoul.
My head clearer, still fear / headache but no penis. (Word impossible to read.)
Another country, another (—) – same music / where rich kids come to vomit.
