Poetry / May 2008 (Issue 3)

Platform No. 9

by Marina Ma

Metallic, striped, white
And yellow. Swaying past
One green dragon
Onto the ninth.
Riding amongst sweaty
Brown workers and
Pin-stripped suits.
(It's going on ten years.
It's time to change.

Rushing through that
Beeping entrance, we
Managed to witness
By two systematic
Clattering doors,
Pirated Harajuku girls
Smile vacantly in
Their uniforms between
Hovering suits fresh
From Lo Wu.
(Ten years fly by.
When will we change?

Leaning onto the icy
Yellow pole, digitalized
Images of countless
Uniform parties and
Home videos spread
In their minds. They
Wait for "The next stop
Is Nine Dragon Pond".

They wait to file out
In an orderly manner,
Minding the gap,
Talk animatedly on
Their latest model
Of mobile phones. Those
Bright bobbing heads
Could not foresee
That frightful pinch they
Felt, behind.
(Ten years. Did they say
It was ten years last July?

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