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Last Night at McDonald's

It was that night after I've walked you home
You called me again, said you didn't go up
But followed me from behind, since you couldn't say to my face
That 'I would go back to UK tomorrow', crying over the phone
 
I turned back although I was almost home
On this winter night I went to McDonald's with you, drinking chocolate like it's wine
If I was to blame you, you would come and go as you will
Since those common traits of Taurus, you had none
 
Last night at McDonald's
White lights, Canto songs and hobos
Thinking that night at Temple Street, the fortune teller said you belonged to
The wildness of 'paradoxical, vigorous war horses'
 
It was since last August, after I knew you were my neighbor
That night walking through Tai Kok Tsui you told me about your childhood
Then every one or two weeks, we would stroll the park together at night
Sneaking into Ningnan Gardens, we could see nothing in the darkness
 
Nor can I stroll into your heart
Some night we kissed like we became boyfriend and girlfriend
But you never liked holding hands, but only putting your hand in my sleeves
Hinting how you were merely borrow warmth, weren't you?
 
Last night at McDonald's
White lights, Canto songs and hobos
These rituals of missing you, was better than actual dating
And that's why you left, maybe?
 
Last night at McDonald's
Orange juice, choca and hobos
Leaving portrait of us together, spending this last night somewhere together
Concluding this winter fieryness
 
In a strike of a lightning, we had parted for buses ever since
 

Who Invented Jobs?

Who invented jobs?
I want to feed him S-H-I-T
Who invented jobs?
The more I work the poorer I become
 
For that ten-thousand-dollar salary
Days turn long and never-ending
Ten-thousand, ten-thousand, ten-thousand
My soul is sold to large corporations
 
Who invented jobs?
You were being pretentious
Who invented jobs?
Sabotaging my art career
 
When my salary reaches twenty-thousand dollars
My youth is almost used up
Twenty-thousand, twenty-thousand, twenty-thousand
I have no time to finish what I want to accomplish
 
I dream of a land
Without government and authorities
This land, this land, this land
Has many dancing girl groups
 
Who invented jobs?
You are either a bitch or dick
Who invented jobs?
I play Klondike at work
 
When my salary reaches thirty-thousand dollars
I think I won’t ever reach thirty-thousand dollars
Thirty-thousand, thirty-thousand, thirty-thousand
Those who earn thirty-thousand are usually cocky
 
I dream that this land
We won’t lose touch with our classmates after graduation
And when at reunions we won’t talk about Stock market, Big cars
Marriage, Giving birth, Buying houses and Buying yachts
 

Lower Albert Road

Two months ago we chat daily with messages
And decided to set a code for our first date
If we met in person and decided to cancel
We shall use the code to avoid any embarrassment
 
We drank moscato after mosctato
You taught me how to greet in Icelandic language
We drank from Gough Street to Lower Albert Street
But the moscato did not turn my steps into stumbles
 
I have waited for tonight for two long months
But I dared not to set the expectations too high
However, since this date my thoughts became troubled
And it began with the goodbye hug you gave me
 
We drank moscato after moscato
You said 'How good if I didn't have work tomorrow'
We drank from Gough Street to Lower Albert Street
Listening to I Won't Dance by Frank Sinatra
 
We set a code for cancelling our date
But not one for taking us to the next level
 

Romantik

Cause my face isn’t so pretty
Cause my career isn’t worth mentioning
But I wish you can spend
A romantic bus ride with me, oh
 
I would listen to your worries
I know you have something to say
Your plan is actually leaving Hong Kong
But you don’t have courage to leave yet
 
Coincidentally I need some release
Coincidentally you smells like a flower
You sit next to me
Wavers my heart
So I would be honest with you, oh
 
I am not that “elaborate soft boy” anymore
I am not obsessively depressed everyday anymore
I just wanna touch your breasts
I just wanna touch your breasts
I just wanna touch your breasts
I just wanna touch your breasts
Touch your breasts
 

Song of Downiness

I am down again,
since I read Osamu Dazai. 1
No matter who I talk to, they don’t care about the meaning of death.
 
The world is like crumbling,
we have no way to aid this.
I could only wish the wind would take me somewhere new to start again.
 
So I wish you can write a poem for me,
in memoir of the six dates we’ve had.
 
I cannot visualize
the fairytales I’ve read.
Sometimes growing up is but a prologue of a tragedy.
 
Things I’ve done
usually has no meaning.
Whoever get close to me wouldn’t be happy and I’m aware of that.
 
I just wish I could be an smiley angel,
then we would see each other ten times a day.
 
Wish I could be a elegant hymn,
then you would gladly read me ten times.
 

• 1. The writer’s most famous book is about death and losing the identity as a human.