There are too many whores in Kowloon; one,
drugged and dazed, being transfered, 10am,
from taxi to ambulance; heavy whities
plod about, from bargain to bargain, pastries

and coffee: I’m sure Henry would have liked it
here. I wander over to the park,
my tired eyes gazing at girls, for a nap.
The turtle dove with speckled collar,

the shy wren, or warbler, in a corner
under a bush; songbirds in trees with with aerial roots
and, circling in the sky, a pair of kites,
black and large and rewarding.

One of three bottom bunks, sixty dollar
for the night; building site; evening bustle.