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Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Magic Imagine for a second that the world you live in is magic. Not your hocus-pocus, wave-your-wand-magic, but magic like the coffee tables you sit at beat with the hearts of the trees they were made from. That the coffee and beer in your mouths is feeding you life straight off the tongues of the plants they were made from. That every heart beating in this room is beating in time to every heart in this room and this poem. Some of you will go home with some of you tonight and some of you will go home to empty rooms that some of you will wish you had gone home to: go home to them. Your empty rooms and the rooms you fill always have at least one poem in them. There is a poem in the pretty