Poem of the Month
Rua da Felicidade

By Ken Norris

Published on June 2, 2014

Walking down Rua da Caldeira,
on my way to the Street of Happiness.

Rua da Felicidade.
These narrow two blocks
were the hub of the infamous
Macau red-light district
back in the twenties and thirties, and after.
It’s hard to believe
that all that fabled wickedness
radiated out from here,
this short street where one now finds
a few Chinese restaurants,
a few red-doored dwellings
inhabited by elderly Chinese
(when they were young
what did they see, what did they do?)
and a whole raft of bakeries and sweet shops.
Cookies and sweets having replaced
who knows what lost sweetnesses?

Friends, it’s a surprise
to all of us
that this book could possibly end
on the Street of Happiness.

More Poetry

No Exit

I love your world, he said, just keep it to yourself —I love your mouth. In a Star ...

No One Goes To Prince Arthur Anymore

Is it because they can’t tell the Casa Grecque from the Cabane Grecque? Because they drown in buckets of oversalted feta, or they have lost their ways through white tablecloths and folded napkins returning from the restrooms?

Sound No 2

There are things I want to show you, like the empty pause that encircles desire. Or how Klimt knew that a woman bends her neck that far for a kiss only if she really wants it. I want to show you how quiet it gets when you’re in the company of someone who no longer loves you.