They told me to wait, So wait I did, Until weeks turned into months turned into years. Then she came along And I said, '**** it.'
Worst time to be so flippant. The result was a three year roller coaster ride That ended like the Hindenburg. Nice.
Next, I turned to the nocturnal comforts, Selecting hour-long companionship With a click of the mouse That ends with the closing of the window Tossing of the damp tissues in the bin And stepping out for a smoke, With Jay Chou crooning in my ear Singing of love new and lost.
Closing my eyes My memory summons my gramps.
Those Japanese devils My grandfather would tell me, Lighting up another Marlboro Before launching into another rambling tirade About the misery of post-war China. I'll ******* **** you if you get with one-- Disown you, even. Rest his soul.
Does Maria Ozawa count, gramps? Would you **** me Or give me a high-five? (I'd get smacked for being insolent.)
Bamboo switch in hand Grandma would sit me down And tell me how they used to fight over sewer rats With other refugees for dinner.
Grandma, you'd shake your head If I tell you about the rats I have to work with On a daily basis. Your move. (Oh wait, you're dead.)
The wisdom of my forefathers Fossilized in ancient Chinese tomes Extolling the virtues of patience
There are gem fragments to be found in the waiting. One perfects oneself as one waits For the time to ripen. Life passing you by Is naught but an illusion.
In the meantime I've resigned myself To wherever the mercurial turns of life Take me. I'm happy with the status quo.