live audio recitation (Youtobe.com)
Rivers of frost on the brow of Gyemyeongsan,
Out there, up there
Past the ranks of apartment towers
Bought off the plan, hoping for a raise,
Past the washing line, through a streaked window
Where I gaze in warm air, foolishly safe, my bubble moment.Old mountain of cold, aching rock in a shell blue sky;
The stubble on your chin waits for another spring
That will pass, and pass again;
A billion years you've cared nothing about waiting;
Only living imps do that, hoping for another spring.
You are happy in my silly, fragile dream.Tomorrow I will meet her, a child of twenty springs,
Endlessly self absorbed, already planning plastic surgery
To nip and tuck her tender temporary skin;
Her eyes will slide in mute disgust
Past some minor evidence of body wear,
Some crime that I have multipled her age by three
And still live, more or less, to tell the tale.There was a time, well yesterday if years are hours,
When the end was nigh.
Apocalypse was waiting in the wings,
The tragedy of youth's brief kiss and summer's date
Was rushing past the windows in my dream.
It seemed that dusty words, but no hot breath of life
Could live to see the next grey hint of dawn.And Time will come, indifferent in her way
To bouquets of words, entreaties, promises of healthy snacks
And surgeon's cheating knives,
To take me into dust on frosty Gyemyeongsan.
Then for a little while, I'll fear that passing and soon pass
Beyond all care; but hey, my funny bone still tickles, I'm an imp:
Tomorrow I will meet her, this child of twenty springs.Thor
Chungju, South Korea
February 2006
