run while you can

A sexy sonnet.

One Room on the Right, Green. Icheon, South Korea. Summer 2010.

Shakespearean style*

Among truck drivers and day laborers I dwell,
Three stories of us, or more so, of them and me.
A blue-collar below my white one fits well.
No Clark Kent cape, trust me, you clearly see.

Two-by-two, the men bring women at night.
Heavy boots, an awful ruckus, the stairs.
Her pitch, I picture high heels, quite a sight.
A door-code keypad, the room: his stare dares.

Tossing, turning, restless, maladjusted.
My ears struggle still, both at attention.
Dumb walls stop sound; privacy not busted.
No moans or groans, no nothing worth mention.

Tomorrow, I yawn, same time as always.
Tomorrow, my work, my words: just a phase.

One Room on the Right, Blue. Icheon, South Korea. Winter 2010.


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