i, shatter

tubagus angke

On my way to the Chinese House of Mourning
I saw girls in mini skirts sitting
On plastic green stools (electric! in the cars' headlights)
Cross-legged on the river side of the street

'We sit cross-legged
So there's less skin
Exposed to the mosquitoes
And the cold of early morning
And so there's more
For the men to see'

Ah! Everything makes sense so
Girls, everything here's done out of modesty
And the desire for commerce!

'Yes, just look at the bright lights
Of the karaoke bars across the street
Look how the fence they've put up
Across the traffic island looks like the bars
Of a cell. From here anyway. The wrong side of the tracks'

'Oh and yeah, tell your friends,
When you sit cross-legged
They can't see up your skirts
Not until you've handed
Over your money!'

aspasia

posted by lo! @ 2:26 AM