Chinese New Year
Tonight I want to hear heartache.
I am out of synch, I know. It still may come though. Ah, say something nice. Just for tonight, let the music swell, let me see her.
It still may come.
I buy cigarettes. The sad eyed girl on the corner. When it is not busy she rests, chin in hand. Little melancholy hymns. Only I can appreciate them, but she keeps them all the same.
A series of percussive snaps. Paper mache dragons vomit fireworks onto the crowded street.
Faust’s.
We got drunk and made fun of the singer. A jungle of whiskey heated limbs, we fall asleep forming our own constellation.
Saturday night, the valentine you mean to send, but time weighs it down in your hand.
- Wayne HW Wolfson 2006
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