The Party Secretary Is Singing Poem by Dr Ronnie Bai

The Party Secretary Is Singing

He delights in dusty days of dusty sky,
and nothing stops him singing out loud,
His notes the city's hubbub to quell,
As he pops up as the most skilled soprano
on the city's sleazy stage
with piercing high pitches
shattering roof tiles, window glass and every door
of every antique house that is but an eyesore —
All for the Party's blared fanfare of modern and sleek
skyscrapers looming in the dusty neon lights,

He also sings public arias for the developers
But his drunken notes are kept in diminuendo
As he rides in his turbo limo
autographing the city's snail traffic processions —
From the private boxes of his developers' mansions
He carries back his paycheck in his clenched fingers,
the Swiss bank accounts' new figures.

As he sings for the connoisseur developers
And admires their taste in extravagant estates
strewing over the city's rural suburbs,
He really rejoices farmland's rapid revamp
into rich men's commuting paradise —
His thrill notes smother the starlings to hell.

Knowing all party secretaries come and go,
Now he must hurry to sing in full crescendo!
A lead singer he is in a timed operatic show
Joined by the serenading developers
whose land purchase and his blue print
meet like pre-destined onstage lovers,
Making offstage huge capitol gain a puny sprint.
Oh, he sings for his little investing games —
all of which are under his in-laws' names.