On a splendid day in October,
Be my bride.
Treading on the fallen leaves
With your bare feet,
Wearing short wedding dress,
Boasting of your beautiful legs
On which moist drizzle is flowing down,
Come to me.
To spend the unforgettable
Last night of October,
Make today a wonderful day.
Before this October passes away,
Be my bride.
To greet ash-colored November
With blue-sky-colored heart,
Be my October bride.
Wondering who this woman would be…
I chew on sand in your poem.
Reading your poem won’t get my heart moist.
Why don’t you have a date?
Try to dip yourself deep in love.
Then your poem will get al dente with some moisture.
and make the small chest of a woman pound.
The poet who is looking around;
That flower garden was a mirage?
The poet who is crossing the desert;
built an oasis, but the material is only sand.
The flower garden is a hologram that came across the Pacific.
Maybe it is my hallucination;
Can I cross this desert
If I walk and walk and walk again while
chewing and chewing and chewing again the poems I wrote
when I was floundering deep in love?
Sing your own song
Dance your own dance
Show your own heart
Not in the dark night
Not under the moonlight
But in broad daylight
On the busy street
If you are not a dog
Not a cat…or not those kinds…
People will sing with you
People will dance with you
People will show their hearts
What if people just watch?
What if people ignore you?
What if nobody is around you?
Call them dogs, cats..or those kinds…
What is what it is
You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?