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About Bologna

Last week, pissed me off—dude tried sellin’ me his “sister.” Bitch, please! I ain’t that desperate. Reminded me of Nie Yinniang—silent, judgin’. “Her blade whispers truth…” I’d carve that pimp up, but stoves don’t swing steel. Found this chick tho—Lulu, real name probly somethin’ else. Little known fact: Taipei’s red-light dives got codes. Two knocks, cash upfront—boom, you’re in. She’s sittin’ there, legs crossed, smokin’ like she owns time. Made me happy—classy, not trashy. Surprised too—knew Hou’s flick! “The wind carries her scent…” she says, laughin’. I’m like, fuck yeah, soulmate vibes!

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After my sugar high, I decide to explore. I wander down to the Malatesta Library. It’s stunning! Old books everywhere, and I’m feeling all inspired. I sit down, pull out my notebook, and start scribbling. But then, this kid starts yelling about a lost cat. I can’t focus! I’m like, “Dude, priorities! Write a poem about the cat or something!”

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