blue christmas

the christmas that visited me last year,
my still being alive make it come back.
while the christmas tree that was not
trashed is glittering again this year,
i don’t hear ‘merry christmas’ from her
and the bridal chamber is still waiting
to be indulged. the dream of honey-
moon that was shattered and scattered
into the universe. the memory of promise
is still piercing my heart with a spear
head, but the picture i draw is a short
kiss and the only thing left is a touch
of her tongue. her christmas is blue-
tainted too or she is being burned red
in a room? my thirty hand motion that
is groping around the glass wall; the
fatigued phantasy of copulation; the
desire and lust that are turned blue.
blue blue blue blue christmas

Autumn

Crickets’ chirping
Drives out cicadas’ chirring
In my front yard

Drizzle all day
Tries to strip the shy trees
In my backyard

Blue sky
Is too high to paint blue
My window upstairs

Chilly breeze at dawn
Dries out smell of sweat
From my forehead In the park

Without lonely widow
On the bench by the lake
Man can’t endure another autumn