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.

When the screen goes dark
and the olives and carobs
in their intricate design
vanish into the sudden night

There’s the country somewhere outside the car.
The country where the elm fucks the maple
and the elm broods as if auditioning
for a new PBS miniseries.