Among a myriad featureless faces,
She has the only pair of relentless eyes.
With a dark mole in each eye, a killer-lady is melancholic.
A killer-lady is erratic, wearing uniforms and pink bunny slippers.
Such a woman is not eligible for self-defense.
With Migraleve tablets, she suffers a schizophrenic migraine.
With fishnet pantyhose, she is a professional seductress.
With a condom in her handbag, she is a prostitute.
Straitjacketed to a bed, she has sharp curves,
And suddenly takes on such a strong sex appeal.
This makes every man want to suffer a sadistic disorder of aesthetic necrophilia.
This is the season when spring flowers are withering,
When every day is a day of libation.
The killer-lady blooms in her dream.
I light a candle to regard this Queen of the Night, our one-night stand.
She is a scraped moon, whose whites are scooped out.
She is moon-struck, eyes squinted.
There is pure lyricism in her wriggling under the dripping of sun-oil.
I am a lover troubadour, if she loves me, gratis.
If I have silver around my waist, I will overact a man.
If she passes out in orgasm, under or on me, I will rise to the rank of immortals.
Woman, eternal, turns us on.
The rustling is harmonious, when wind tiptoes across reeds.
Countless blades bow to the wind over grasses, with a flash of light.
The aura of the killer-lady is mechanically repressible,
But it reproduces in the air.
When she is crunched, it is a light put out
Before the marrow is burned,
And the unused can be good lubricant for a road-roller.
She uses her scissors to cut calluses off wandering feet,
But for the noose of morality,
A killer-lady uses one of the blades to saw, like a blunt knife.
A killer-lady will slowly kill all of us,
Unless we kill ourselves,
But those who can sing euphonious and resonant will be exonerated.
Oh, what a pity that I am no better than a drake.
I cannot sing, I cannot dive.
A killer-lady is a smiling woman.
May 20, 2009
On May 10, 2009, in Badong County, Hubei Province, a girl who works in a public bath as a pedicurist (polishing the toe-nails, removing the callus and dead skins, etc.) was demanded to provide “special” service (sex) by three officials. When she refused, saying she is not that kind of person (prostitute), the leader among the three first threw a stack of money at her, yelling "do you think we do not have money?", and then pounced on her twice, while his two colleagues stood by. Finally, the agitated girl found her knife (for her work) and injured two (the leading one dead later). She turned herself in to the police, and then she was in detention under the accusation of intentional murder. As a kind of anti-depressant (sleeping pill) was found in her bag, she was sent into a mental institution, bound to a bed as a “protective” measure. Netizens are overwhelmingly hailing her as a chaste heroine (an ancient term for a woman who dies in defense of her honor chastity or virginity), while the police’s circulars are increasingly favorable to the officials, changing the words "pouncing on her" to "pushing her toward the bed," "special service (sexual)" to "bathing service from an opposite sex," "pedicurist knife" to "fruit knife," etc. However, it seems that the powerless power of the netizens has inserted some kind of influence, and some voluntary workers are able to visit her in the hospital, where she is now given a ward for her own.