Smudged tents clog streets,
wadded tissues in a sink
Cars park in pregnant bulges
around these tents, stale sun
rusts on as
day hinges to night.
The buzz swells, erupts in knotted string sound
punctuated by hoots,
flashed lights, and
frenzied head ejected from a window.
Five kuih lapis ayam berempah satu!
in quells between the knots.
Clotting, threading masses,
a curtain exposing glimmers of
trays, signs, pink, steel,
pancake tossed, ripe
flipping tongs, seething black gold on bowls of flame –
then the figures sewn down the street
hem cleaving road.
Waxen, knobbled, silent.
Quieter than the hundredth echo of their tins,
stiller than the air holding its breath, waiting for
Clouds of plastic bags percolate at their feet
diamagnetically forcing heads the other way.
About the Author:
Name: Fara Ling
Age: 16 (junior)
How many years have you been apart of TPS?
This is my fifth year at TPS
What classes are you taking with TPS?
I’m taking AP Lit with Ms. Wood
What are a few of your hobbies?
I love reading, writing, dancing (in particular ballet and contemporary), and being in nature.