Five
Chinese Brothers
Home they go to mother, poor woman,
who saw this coming, two at the breast,
three fighting over the last piece of bread,
little fingers sticky with jam. Town fountain
drained bone dry, no contest blue-in-the-face
tantrums over mooncake, full throated wails
like monsoon caged in rusty rain spout,
window peeping the mayors corpulent wife
soaking in her second floor bath, taunting
the fire brigade time and again with a sing song
“save me, please save me”. Twilight years
spent tending lotus on the drowned boys grave,
morning walks along the shore, reassuring waves
washing sand from beneath her bare feet.
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