The wong Wong

[just mercedes]

Sidney Wong, one of our nod punters,  owns Chinatown,
they say. We eat at his Old Tai Pei restaurant between meetings,
a dozen or so clerks who have to be at work in an hour.
We’re in and out, no muss, no fuss, and they can reset
the tables before dinner starts pumping. They like that.
 
Henry claims us for his section. He’s worked there
for ever, gets the best tables. ‘Ya, ya, I fix for you,
I fix for you’ the only English he speaks. He knows
what we want for starters, (dim sum and gow ghee,
steamed and deep fried, soy and chili sauces to mix),
what beer to bring. (Crown Lager) He darts into the steam,
screaming what could be curses or orders, ­­earns the good tip.
 
One night Henry doesn’t get a tip. Sidney’s new horse wins that day.
(He bets with us, but not on the locals) He’s celebrating.
He sends champagne, insists on paying for our meal, won’t
even let us leave a tip. Poor Henry. I hope he backed it.
 
Sidney’s son Robert runs the restaurant (a couple of them)
with his sister Deena, punts with us as well. I know his face
from the races (he bets with us too), hers from the kitchen.
 
Two Wongs in the nod book can get confusing. Marvin the Prawn
has instructions to draw a ring around Robert’s bets so they stand out,
but he gets them mixed up. Seems that’s lucky for The Boss though.
He keeps leaning over Marvin all day, after a Wong has bet, saying
‘Make sure you don’t wing the wong Wong’ and cracking up.
Marvin’s face stays bright red.
 
Sidney is murdered in bed, his wife asleep beside him. Deena, charged
with importing a huge amount of heroin, collapses in a Sydney court
as she’s about to give evidence, dies without regaining consciousness.  
 
Seems Robert is the right Wong after all. 
 
 
 

[dukealien]

Delightful, including the fate of Sydney and evaluation of Wobert Robert at the end.

Couldn't help being reminded of that old chestnut,

"We wanted Lee Wing
but we winged Willy Wong -
a sad but excusable
slip of the tong."

provenance of which is not immediately available.

[just mercedes]

Thank you! Yes, it's probably a racist attitude, joking about the whites and Wongs, but the world of the races is like that. Was like that. I wrote this one earlier, from the other side. http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-19381.html

[amaril]

Lot going on here--the sounds are great throughout and the tone is superbly conversational.

The first two stanzas are the best.  They are the most musical, and they are easy to follow, which befits the beginning of a conversational poem.  Henry is the clearest character in this poem, and I can feel the speaker's offhand affection for him.

The rest of this poem is good, but less striking than the beginning (even though the subject matter gets more serious and the anecdote reaches its crux).  This is mainly because the 'narrative' of the anecdote introduces more, less developed characters and the pacing becomes less fluid.  I had to reread the stanza in order to understand who Robert and Marvin were, and once I did I still didn't fully understand their relationship to the dramatic ending of the poem (which feels like the purpose of the anecdote).

In a way, the tangled-loose-ends conclusion of the poem suits the conversational 'stream of consciousness' style of the speaker, but it fails to wrap the poem up in a satisfying way.  The end doesn't feel like the most important part of this story to the speaker.  Again, I don't know that that is a bad thing, and it is interesting that the ending treats the violence with a newspaper's nonchalance.  The issue, though, is that the speaker becomes less realistic as the story progresses: why did he throw in all these details (note that I don't question why he threw in the stuff about Henry: it is clear that he thinks fondly of the between-meeting lunch routine) about Marvin the Prawn and the bets getting mixed up?  Was Sydney murdered by Robert, or someone else related to his gambling?  I feel that if that were the case the speaker would have gone into more detail about Robert's reaction to things at the track, or at least might have told the story differently. The joke at the end isn't funny enough to be the point of the poem (but I do like the idea of resolving a tragedy with a joke).

After writing all that, I must say I find the idea of this poem being an indirect account of the transfer of power in chinatown pretty neat.  Still, though, the ending was less rewarding than the beginning.

[just mercedes]

Amaril - thanks for your read and comments. All duly noted. Revision needed.

[just mercedes]

Blatant self-promotion.



Too happy! My book Track Tales is now available!
In memoriam to K. A. Saw.
• paperback - http://bit.ly/TrTspbk
• ePub eBook - http://bit.ly/TrTePub

(includes this poem, plus a few others I posted here)

[shemthepenman]

i just bought it. cheers for the link.

[just mercedes]

Yay! Thank you - please let me know what you think.

[shemthepenman]

Yay! Thank you - please let me know what you think.

i will indeed.