run while you can

Already into the past.

The game of your life. Icheon, South Korea. Spring 2011.

All at once, eight long months…
born abroad, lost at sea, against the grain.
That’s me, “we” ship out, aeroplane over the ocean
to heat, rain, weeklong days, a human maze.
Breaking bread ovenlessly. Begot, our daily fix.
Sandwiches at the summit. In the mix, drinks.

Reflection: the mirror and three years ago.
Never thought of fruition, never thought.
Hazy, blinded. Running to/ running from.
The city was small, easily mine, the taking.
Smash and grab. Pedal and push. Isthmus.
Always education, education first. Right.

Turning: the window, not altogether exotic.
The city is small, oddly shaped, the landscape.
A pebble on the beach, wearing a t-shirt, wet.
The high tide, it might as well wash me away.
Beating on, against the current, born ceaselessly…
Then again, educate, always educate. Right.


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