![]() Singapore BurpA Poem by April ChildI got a massage from a blind man today. He began with a burp, no "pardon me", "oh goodness I am sorry" just a blatant belch. They do that in China. Singapore too it seems. I jumped in much the same way my dog looks at her own arse when she farts out loud then caught myself, stifled a little giggle and tried to stay conscious as he manipulated my muscles while my adams apple was pressed to choking point on the wrongly adjusted seat beneath me. If I did pass out would he notice? death by massage, suppose it could be worse… Eyes closed I tune into the hubbub filtering from the crowded food court opposite where they suck on noodles and pig organ soup. I go there daily for fresh cut fruit and drink water from the coconut through a straw.. mango, papaya, dragon fruit and some other fruit I don't know the name of the ladies behind the counter tell me its " ippopotamo" or some such Im sure that cant be right, sounds like a cockney hippo… En route to and from the fruit stall bombarded by unrecognisable aromas I try not to breathe, best not to look either. A rhythmic slap and squeak comes from the next chair if I didn't know better I'd think they were having sex slap slap slap squeak squeak squeak whispered "is that ok for you?" certainly sounds ok from where I'm choking My folded legs fall into a coma I need to stretch them but don't want to trip my blind burpy friend and turn the salon into a scene from laurel and hardy so concentrate on staying conscious and hope I can stand as tingling turns to numbness The time comes and is heralded by another burp. Should I burp back? Fart maybe… stifled by own Britishness I simply thank him and lumber off on licquorice legs The lift arrives to take me to my room on the 26th floor, doors slide open and I'm face to face with a dwarf. I did not expect that. Surreal in Singapore today… © 2012 April ChildFeatured Review
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7 Reviews Added on March 16, 2012 Last Updated on March 17, 2012 Author![]() April ChildUnited KingdomAboutI love words and I like to write poems. Sometimes words just come and I don't know where from but I write them down anyway. There's something very powerful in the written word. It shows you where y.. more..Writing
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