Did the man you met in Hong Kong tell you of the sparkles, falling behind your eyes? Did he tell you that souls are easily distilled into green tea, and tongues can be plucked out and served with monkey-feet and cinnamon as delicacy; that strangers will pay steep money to sit in a tight booth,… Continue reading poem: tourist
Tag: free verse poetry
poem: i swear i’m not neurotic, i just have control issues.
she sat alone; men are formulas with no answer, with no reason, and she can lay things out nicely in her head, but hit /run program/ and it is errorerrorerrorerror. they are laughing at her; they are laughing at her when she goes into the room, when she goes to the front of the room,… Continue reading poem: i swear i’m not neurotic, i just have control issues.
poem: they told the girl
they told the girl: you are not going anywhere, you are going to sit in the dark for the rest of your sorry sad life. you are just like a balkan rat, boring out the eyes of your kin, hissing and scratching and screaming in the night, and all the little children, their lacy bare… Continue reading poem: they told the girl
poem: the human glory of political economics
there are times when I am fascinated by politics and the rollicking play of the market is a sort of sweet drug, made into a gladiator fight between the two colored corners of this universe, rushing always into bright contact and history falling away in the process as little glass pieces for children to pick… Continue reading poem: the human glory of political economics
poem: my mother has done everything
She is two-stepping in an Arizona bar with some old-timer, the walls hung with adobe, tassels, turquoise bracelets for sale and the stereo bleeding out early 90's country-folk. The Indians at the bar are leaning in, stoically awed by the way this city girl already has the West in her eyes. She will not… Continue reading poem: my mother has done everything
poem: 미국 사람, 한국 사람 (or, No More Dream)
the girl knows oppa and saranghae but if you showed it to her, like: 오빠 or 사랑해 she would not know how to make those odd lines of man, earth, sky into the bright music that she sings in the dark. She knows 김 is said as "Kim," because it's the beginning part to names… Continue reading poem: 미국 사람, 한국 사람 (or, No More Dream)
poem: to those beautiful kdrama anti-heroes
He probably has a plain black baseball cap (where do people even buy those?) and one of those pollution masks that are so vogue in smogged-up asia; or if it's a historical drama, he definitely has black bangs over his eyes, and probably a bit of a scar and (of course) beautiful dark eyes, lightly… Continue reading poem: to those beautiful kdrama anti-heroes
poem: lady gatsby
she briefly subscribed to The New Yorker and wore the free tote around to parties, the black handles draped slim over her arms and the fabricked bottom so obviously stamped THE NEW YORKER that it looked forced, especially when hung against her JC Penny dress; "It was clearance," she says, proudly, and people give her… Continue reading poem: lady gatsby
poem: what is not (lost & found)
I am looking for him everywhere but he is not even in my dreams he is scattered over the snow in kicked-up footprints he is the smudges on the windows when I breathe against the glass, watching my loneliness fog into my fingertips, watching him always not appear. little girl (asked in broken english) why… Continue reading poem: what is not (lost & found)
the last pavilion 