Tuesday, 2 August 2011


humidity. the rain is part of the humidity. they aren't separate elements. the bus is underwater. schoolgirls giggle like schoolgirls at the athletes, the soccer players, the tennis instructors, imported from the united states. the run of water. the flow of traffic. diverted into. the disparate looks at a nation that refuses to be submerged. seoul burned, they tell me, it wasn't so tall then, but we rebuilt it. five teenage boys in a war memorial, making jokes at the simulated shooting experience. rushing soldiers overhead in stone. this is what the guns are here for, the 3-d movie and video games, to absorb the weight of jokes and float above them. we try to live peaceful now, but always watch.they remember macarthur. the minibikes speed quick between buses. outside faces condense with a thin film, like what we wrap our beef and sprouts in, this is japanese food, before, it was mongolian. fusion. shoes piled by the door, signs in english and korean and japanese survive bombs and land wars and taste like fusion.
submitted to Hoarse, so may take it down in a bit, if they choose this and not the other, more ridiculous thing I sent them.

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