SU CHONG

When Su Chong’s lap sang it came as a big surprise,
Her man, Darin spoke no Chinese
Despite his ‘canto knees’—
His ‘Ezra Pound patellas’, as he calls them
Draped in the late poet’s work.
However, in English, Darin is supportive of Su,
Telling her, ‘Your lap’s singing is a fantastic gift!
The thigh’s the limit,’ he quips, and while she gets his drift,
She feels embarrassed by the strangeness of her singing legs,
And the way they started singing with no warning,
She wondered how they knew the words.
‘Tunes from your lap,’ Darin enthused,
‘That will make people clap!’
‘We’ve heard of lap dancers, they’ll say,’ he continues,
‘Now, here’s Su Chong—the world’s first lap singer!’
Looking down at her thighs, Su sighs,
‘They’re quiet now, my legs. Can’t you see?
Not knowing when they will burst into song makes it wrong—
They’re no good to me.’
‘Steady on, Su. What you have is unique!
It’s too precious to abandon in a fit of pique.’
But Darin’s entreaties came too late,
She’d already decided to amputate,
Both of her legs with help from her Japanese Samurai mate.
Afterwards, ironically, both she and Darin were stumped by her peculiar fate.