Seoul boy
nice kid, eighteen, from the East
took on the east side
and the west side
story goes,
his mother knew
"much dings"
and his father knew politics, so
"less dings"
his mother was a woman of
words,
spoke of feminists,
spoke of progress,
read many books and
spoke goot engeulish,
"and your job?"
"No, that is your father question."
huh?
his father was a man that
WAS,
ran for a lot and
stood for a lot and
looked far ahead and
above of his head but
never really
seem to
stop? Seoul boy thought,
of Times Square. Times Square.
TIMES SQUARE
everyday, out there
selling shirts that say
"wo-I-NY"
and umbrellas
when it rained.
(and yes, it rained
in the city of dreams)
soft-lookin' kid
hard cash,
best friends with the
homeless "trash", so-called.
"urban campers,"
"friendly locals!"
"fairly loco?"
"lotsa cOcO."
huh.
Seoul boy, working at a
Greenwich pharmacy
first-time paycheck
first-time real job
first-time AC
first-time man ask me
out
there, somewhere
out there.
what?
your home.
my home? yeah.
no. wait what?
this is home
even gay man knew.
even homeless knew.
even Seoul boy knew.
"best place I am live,
'till die."
he said
"best place is
the New York City."
he said