바다

"바다" she tells me

"baaahh dahhh" i repeat like a sheep incompetent

one year later and i sit staring at the same crayon drawing of the sea

reading "바다" and remembering

how we wrote chalk notes on the board

hello

hi

youre cute

youre hot

youre beautiful

how are you

... 바다 has brought me here again
for you
or me
i do not know

rainy day

today
(i am)
the sight
the size
the sound
of this rain

memories flash in dreams
somehow i still can speak all the words i have forgotten

god bless this lonely billie holiday
god bless this miles davis
god bless coltrane and all that jazz

even buses run more slowly

the coffee is black
and the shop just changed its hours for smoking indoors
its ok i could use the exercise...

god bless the first kiss
the first touch
the first moments of uncertainty
something of the rain reminded me
what thats like
all that nervousness
and skin full of tremulations

... god bless the poet wordsmiths the re-inventors

... i like to keep my life close to me
like to have it all within reach or short walking distance

umbrellas pass by so slow... ly

i like the sound of rain
its like the sound of sitting in the dark of hannah's flat in long beach
brown carpet
california pacific air
jumping on the bed

its like the sound of oregon in the summer

its like a thousand seven plus sounds lived before

all sheeting down so slow as one long swipe across the city pavement

never seen

only heard

somewhere in the distance

... i like this wooden spoon... perhaps i'll take it home with me

but first now to exercise by stepping out beneath the awning

to watch the rain and fill the air with what my lungs are taking in...

none of it really makes any sense (at all)
what is... would have
could have
been
better
for each
and every
one

of
us

i did not want to go to julliard
because i knew it was not
possible

but you
wanted
what was possible
because nothing said it could not be

and so we both sat dreaming the impossible

so i dont know now what it is /
is
not
better

to have been here
or there

but still we share one thing

loss.

and i cannot forget

how much we still want

and youre this
this
this
julliard
and i
i
im this
romeo'd

its how the story writes itself

every cliche is true tonight

and no ones gonna come outta this happier

we're just gonna end up

honest.

anyways thats all i really ever wanted.

i could never go to julliard

that is where the rich go

but we like to dream this coulda/shoulda

just like how i dream here

and am hurt each and every day by letting go (of) my own coulda/ shoulda

cuz there is none

there is

neither

and its ok

cuz what else is there?

save cept but for a buncha broken dreams

save cept but for a buncha broken wishes

... and anyways no one reads this
save cept but for the dreamers

and what i want when 5 down under plus
is only exaggerated by the five and plus
when really all i mean to say is

- i dont know.

i never will.

she didnt want us

she had different ways of showing it

and now shes happy sending kimchi

like the tears of cabbage is a remedy...

then again...


maybe


it is ...