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Thursday, June 13, 2024


Loneliness is to give the body to the self who will not keep it.


Ahgong is an atheist. Watermelons cut, cubed.

The closest thing to supper he could afford.

                             For a dollar fifty cents, such a big bowl.

Cheap faith, the little bit saved,

my face resting on the rind, scraping.

        A half-circle, teeth sunk into a smile.

Outside where got?                 Church was Teck Ghee food centre

every Sunday. Fish splashed, slippers dragging across floor,

parting of a sea of singlets, salt-caked

         is love, quiet

chopping board, knife. Today I buy

                                        the watermelon sweet and juicy

or not? Is it fresh? Flesh of the land, sweat of the farmer.

Soil and skin

         I do not know. Here is delivery, not deliverance.

When I brought him to college, vigil lights strung

around the dining hall. Offerings spread

in trays, slick steel.

     So much can finish meh?

     Ahgong put down his fork.

I took a plate of watermelons

for ahgong, ahma, myself.

Yeah of course can. At home you also give

one big bowl that’s how I learn to eat.

The caterers clasp their hands.

Do you want more?

         No need, enough already.

                   At home not so much,

                           cannot compare.


Teck Ghee food centre is a hawker centre and wet market in Ang Mo Kio, Singapore.



See Wern Hao is a freshman from Saga College. His works have been featured in QLRS, Toasted Cheese Literary Journal and We Are A Website. Last seen holed up in a poorly ventilated classroom hiding from deadlines and life. If found, kindly return to bed with copious amounts of cheesecake or ice-cream.

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