by Eddie Tay
of course, we can always add a paragraph later
and weave together macau, the ruins a tourist cliché
named history—walls, walks, and mineral water
in summer, a short family trip of portuguese egg tarts,
street stalls of red and gold slippers.
they accept hong kong dollars as well.
i walked because the city wants it.
i took pictures like a tourist
because the city craves it.
i walked, unapologetic.
dreaming together macau,
i stopped at the statue of zeus,
at gambling parlours, free snacks,
pavements full of rickshaws,
chinese medicinal herbs
waiting to be weighed.
Eddie Tay is a poet, street photographer and literature professor at the Department of English, The Chinese University of Hong Kong, where he teaches undergraduate courses on creative writing, children’s literature and poetry. He also teaches a postgraduate course on autoethnography, photography and social media. He is the author of four volumes of poetry, one of which also features his own street photography. His recent academic book, Anything You Can Get Away With: Creative Practices (Delere Press, 2018) blends together scholarly writing, street photography and creative writing. His latest poems can be found in the Spring 2019 issue of World Literature Today.