THE HONG KONG EXPAT TO HIS LOVE
(With apologies to Christopher Marlowe)
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Come bide with me, and be my bride,
And
we’ll roam Hong Kong side by side;
That
concrete jungle, asphalt field
May
all of its detritus yield.
And
we will sit upon Blake Pier
And
breathe the noxious atmosphere
Which
MTR beneath exhumes,
While
diesel taxis spew their fumes.
Where
over all great Mammon reigns,
And
we must clearly go to pains
To
spend and spend ridiculously
On goods consumed conspicuously.
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Where
judgement passed shall not be budged
By
judges who may not be judged;
And
wealth and dirt accumulate,
And
passers-by expectorate.
Assisted
by dear Elsie E,
With
lance a-tilt quixotically,
If
you would truly understand,
Come
dwell with me and take my hand.
And
read of police brutality,
Of
CAPO and I.C.A.C,
Of
boat people and refugees,
And
visiting inept M.Ps.
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Where
buses crash and rentals soar,
And
filth piles up upon the shore.
If
you would thus corruption prove,
Come live with me, and be my love.
Hong Kong, October 1979