Living in the 8ights of Things

Today’s lucky number is 8: 8km/h 

on the treadmill. 8 pushups because you
can’t hit 20^th. 8 jumping jacks, the last leap

sending pigeons flying, breaking imagined
windows. 8 sips of kopi before you consume
8 spoonfuls of rice for 8 dollars.

The ache in your chest is no more than
a longing: getting up at 8am, taking
to the lawns at 8 minutes past 30.

8 crows ring a plate of leftovers, gobbling
faster than 8 salesmen gobbling down the
kopitiam.

8888^th heartbeats later, you will reach
your workplace. 8 emails blink like the

wink of cats. You take the 7^th, drag out

8 fingers at keyboard (88 words per minute),

fold in thumbs like wings of birds and
leave no. 8 for after the 80^th song, before

8.08pm when you drag your corpse in
bus no. 8 home.