Portrait of Chinatown this time

Ah, there was no English
but rushing and orange hues
coloring the pink floors and
red cushion covered seats, I
gave a 25% tip to the vests belching
in my pseudo-dream state, I'd forgotten
my notebook so I felt naked in some
foreign country, there was a stark plane,
depths dropped forever in cold blue
wonder, tho I reeled myself back
to the front counter and dropped four
dollars, but my brain hit the cellulose
splat and the man, we both stared a while,
impaled its gelatin ridges on a small golden spear,
and the ducks quaked in unison as
I hit the floor moaning like the afternooon