Friday, June 22, 2012


Today I saw 周純 walking down 市民大道 in a little black bowler. She was talking to herself, or maybe singing, I'm not sure. A huge bank of black clouds loomed just behind her as she walked--it was going to smack us good with sooty, End-of-the-World rain, which is what it does, and will do. But 周純 seemed to pay no mind to this. She was babbling or singing, I'm not sure, and she stayed just ahead of the clouds, the little black bowler precarious on her candy red hair.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Snow Frog! 蛤士蟆 !

There once was a snow frog named Mike
Who dreamt of riding a bike
But his legs were too short
For such long-legged sport
So we finally got him a trike

There was a young snow frog named Rick
Who found a frozen ice pick
But a badger named Fred
In a dare to him said
"Why don't you to give it a lick?"

That cranky old snow frog Steve
Got frozen one day to my sleeve
When I took out a match
To thaw his bald patch
He haltingly started to grieve

There once was snow frog named Tom
Who went to Beijing with a bomb
But his separatist act
Was lacking in tact
There once was a snow frog named Tom

I once saw the snow frog Princess
She wore a long snow-colored dress
Her eyes shone so bright
In the winter moonlight
That it put my old heart in distress