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old man with four big luggages
for an old man with four big luggages, syd may 24 99
an old man with four big luggages
teetered confidently on steps of a stopping bus
you then jumped briskly into the unbounded warmed up night
showered by street lights and the confetti of wind-shaken leaves
a show nobody seen should go on, no one care

before the glorious café's neon sign
you walked slowly inside against the blow of the ceiling fan  
circling too fast for your drowning ambition
a girl singing light swing,
phones ringing, guests dancing, 
glasses clinking, crowd laughing,
	how could you not think?
while you breathed around plastic boxes, bags and wrappers
all were sucked into your four big luggages, 
	lungs for a real life from the artificial living
	wasn't the weight of fate too heavy for you?

four big luggages, two in the front trolley 
while the rest and your back pulling each other
was it faith or oath you had taken?
i never know
your torso seemed a bow ready to wreck
but i just couldn't prevent, 
you wouldn't even let me say a word

green pedestrian light was not slow enough, 
anyway you wouldn't stop for the red
the air is your faithfulness
an old man with four big luggages
i owe you, and so do my children.
last modified on Mon 20 Jun 2005