by Tammy Ho Lai-ming
The old men playing chess in the park
say a typhoon is brewing.
And if it doesn’t land, there’ll be three days of rain.
You know they all roll up their shirts
to let their stomachs breathe.
They might as well be Buddhas.
by Tammy Ho Lai-ming
The old men playing chess in the park
say a typhoon is brewing.
And if it doesn’t land, there’ll be three days of rain.
You know they all roll up their shirts
to let their stomachs breathe.
They might as well be Buddhas.
