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Posted by on Dec 26, 2008

Spoon by the moon

I pretend to choke on your long black hair
when we spoon;

the verdant December light pours through the room,
the moon.
Alone this Christmas, as in Seodaemun,
this flickering memory, none too soon.
We will now talk of 2009,
dissuade the fear
that props up the rear.
Where to next? What is best?
Embrace the future, forget the rest.
Part from here, go to there.
In the journey we come closer to a path,
make it clear.
I am up for anything,
game for any chance,
ours is an active pursuit
free from circumstance.
We leave a large wake,
swallow those whole
who dare seek roots
skimming across our cereal bowl,
damn hyperbole.
Contrary to popular belief,
a spoon is not one but two,
squat and square in our hand,
needing something to do.
That is the rub of us,
despite all the grandeur of travel, that wanderlust.
Whatever we do, we have to do.
Whatever we choose, we have to choose.
Complacency is not an option
or our spoon we would lose.
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