Here’s 2024 travel poem number three. Hong Kong is a fascinating, liminal place:

It’s now but also then.

It’s neither here nor there.

It’s shark fins and sharp suits

And sampans and shrines to

The spiritual and flavorful,

The physical and fiscal.

It’s no one looking forty, save some

Wizened women hawking herbal remedies.

It’s no one looking forward, bent in

Supplication to their own devices.

It’s no one knowing what’s ahead,

Tongues tied, feet bound for parts unknown.