Swan Lake

There's a shrine everywhere.
A single red rose tied to a tree.

20 cigarettes and a bottle of water-
the thirst and the smoke
in the back of your throat. The thumb
tap and clouds of white smoke. You
couldn't have been very tall. Small hands
like mine, but softer. Straight, jet black hair,
maybe down past your shoulders. The wind
blew through it. A curtain cascading.
The ripples, the slowly rising wave.

We could've been friends. And,
this might sound crazy, maybe we
could've been more. Now hear me out.
Sometimes it takes a crazy fuck like me,
to save anyone from a crazy world like this.

I smoked four cigarettes and went
down wrong side streets. I parked and sat
listening to the same two songs.
In my room I can see the city.
A make shift curtain out of a bed sheet.
You never made it to the first floor.
I would've carried you there if I knew.

This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but I understand. It's good bye and
nice to meet you on the same day.
This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but I'm glad I met you.
Is it silly to ask "how are you?"
Maybe a bit tacky, but I think
I finally see you smile.
No one tells you how to die
so fuck no one can tell you how to live
after the fall. So smile all you want to.
This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but the hard part is over.

Do you mind if I know your face?
Sorry, I'm not the best at drawing, but
I'm trying. I hear your umma* crying.
I'm sorry I freeze up now and then.

I went down the wrong side street
with a cigarette and a can of sprite-
the thirst and the smoke
in the back of my throat. The thumb
tap and clouds of white smoke. I parked
and sat, listening to the same two songs.
Outside the car window I could see the city
and a single red rose tied to a tree.
There's a shrine everywhere.



*mom in Korean