
All of two mountainsides
First well traversed pagoda resting
Old Korean men walk behind
with hands behind
tiny roses or knots folding against spines
Young Korean men walk aside
hold her purses her bags her hands
Young bench
Strange intercom
Wherever flurries of English, I assume too much
mainly I am being addressed am I being addressed
May I ask where you are from?
There is a beautiful bridge there
Ye, audah yo
I give my mashi toaster to a friend
She tells me about the mountain behind blueville
You climb it and there is the ghost town beyond, you can see it
A wall you cannot scale, a mountain you can climb
But both were hills
Iron nickel bridge, metallic music notes and flower buds welded on
To go over in poppy light some transfusion
Duck under the bridge and meet the red dirt roots, I swear I know myself better in this place
A farm plot protected by one stuffed animal giraffe
Makeshift irrigation for deadened corn crops and rice paddy fields
becoming swampland becoming
Red earth
To make use of the war
Old barrack gardens
A minefield where whole families travel
To make use of the war
A mindfield of barbed wire tied into asterisk risk
Vines sent to coil around new life but the wire remains to remember
Make use of war
And white gloves abound up and down the path
What I imagined was queen anne's lace, picked and fingered
For my grandmother
She will never see such a field and dreams of traveling in it her whole life
Who cares for a failing grandfather
His eyesight passed,
his mind will not let him
breathes
remember my mother or his wife
To make use of a war
His tight embraces are my closest to knowing
She calls to speak with someone normal
and could I take her up the mountainside in my mind?
