Sunday October 15th
The questions of dissatisfaction were boiling again in my head
When half broken branches were trembling in the rain
And overnight puddle flooded the backyard door

I took the muggy bus
Watching the eyes scanning
From left to right and right to left
All the way to Stanley Park

The haze greeted the stone eyeballs
Breathing out the thick gas outside the steel worm
In no time

Passing by a bus stop
All people stood
Around the rusty benches

The floatplanes flew in the blank sky
In silence
While the raindrops fell on the polygon skies
On the top of the strangers
With the screaming sounds

Between the trees and water
The leaves
As a part of the pavement painting
Were beyond sorrow
Tearing in the vacuum

A tourist said hello
To the red maple
‘Beautiful, isn’t it’
‘Yeah’ I smiled
With weird excitement