run while you can


My city's word. Icheon, South Korea. Spring 2011.

I wonder: wordy, dense, and without direction.

Might well be hieroglyphic. A word’s worth

a dollar; the photo, a few miles above, worth

a thousand of them. Spontaneous overflow,

you know, of ideas, the powerful feelings,

recollected in tranquility. Smirk-ability.

A joke is best told before laughter.

Then we have a directionality issue-

Just crush it, like a can, can-crusher.

So careless, nomenclature is crucial,

and the choice is beyond you, yours,

beyond all recollection–

Tranquil or turbulent or-


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