Poem of the Day:

Petite Pretty girl on the MRT (next to me).

You stood next to me,
Whether by choice or not,
The two of us were,
Stuck next to each other;
Two tired, lonely souls in an MRT Carriage.
Full of sticky, knackered after-work office workers,
Packed like Singaporean Sardines.
Congested and somewhat dank,
I swear the girl in front of me had hair that stank.
The more everybody tried to get comfortable,
The more they looked like they were all playing twister, together, at the same time.
What a shape-shifting fluid mass of office workers we were.
As the train moved, you leaned closer and closer until it seemed like we'd been doing this forever.
I tried to look dapper in my nicely checkered shirt,
tucked into my black flat front trousers,
standing tall in my black leather shoes.
But I was so uncomfortable in that crowd, I don't think you knew.
Or were you faking insouciance
As you leaned against me (your white sheer fitted shirt was well-made I could tell) throughout the duration of that short ride between Raffles Place and City Hall?
For that minute or so, I thought I might have been in love, albeit briefly.
You didn't have to lean against me and yet you did (I want to believe that you wanted to).
Was it really that crowded or were you just lazy?

Tim'06

Choonage: The Juan Maclean - Tito's Way

p.s. Ru, you'd love this song if you don't already know it! It's got the best hypnotically-driving electro-ish beat ever!