about being here...

shes outside sprinkling seeds on the corner of her block

and while shes crouching scattering life into

a corner patch of seeming dirt

i see the visual of whats been going on inside of me

and the purple blossoms reaching up from mossy greens

and suddenly i have something to write about

(cuz how do you write a poem 'bout eating

and drinking

and

eating more?)



but then she goes and sprinkles seeds into the ground

with the green hose resting obediently

like a long green dog

and i wish to "god" that id been born

"a dancer"

cuz they have these gestures for

seeds

and

joy

and

home

and planting things

and everything else it is

that ive been feeling these days

inbetween the

gorging



and there were rocket trails in the sky

and i dreamt with aerial zoom vision

only,

the world zooms out from me into the expansiveness of space

and i loved a dancer once

(i have loved too many for the count)

(i am guided by their choreography)

but my mouth could not move

(even though it knows the gestures for

desire)

and i awoke

my hands rotating to last night's

music

and

twisting feet



and i sat this afternoon

consuming food and buttered lemon sauce

my heart still gesturing long lines

with the seeds that

have been

sown

from these days and weeks of

being

here



knowing that

in (my) seoul

these things

will

blossom

beautifully

with

grace



-- kim thompson. mpls, mn, the states 13.36 friday 6 may