the wild wild east
outside of the gates by camp george
summertime korean pop songs fading in & out
channels changing to static of whistled
radio in the local toy store today
just every note pausing to peaceful air
the ghosttown playground near a blind alley in
my shoes with my hand gripped
the bruised finger unlocking the safety
lost in myself in the wild wild east
minutes before
i stepped out of the arcade caught in a game
of crooked korean boys who shoved down punched
fists of sandstone & on me blood bruised eye
behind slide & swings
minutes later the band of bicycles
& tongues licked the most of their suckers
the pack of junior high boys
sleeves rolled-up adults at work
the china-made luck of the mock bronze-buddha
statue sitting happy watched me
outside the jasmine greentea house door
my calm—everyone but me careful to step up—
the flash of my straps—them in the wild wild east—
who cares now not me
in my torn leather jacket
with brand new guns coming back
for the afternoon of guiltless payback
strapped with an m-16 a pumping shotgun
& a smith and wesson pistol meters from the police station
i asked in korean fluently am i a monkey now
my serious shiner the large circle
teenagers surrounded the ground there the black student
brave from plastic sidearm i smiled
whispered they had messed with the wrong kid & showed them
hammer pulled by thumb their lips
surprised like those lollipop sticks dropped to the ground
i dash sideways into the position for the sun’s glare
& buck & blast & riddle ratatatat in the wild wild east
i ducked quick screamed die on the scene dust kicking up
everybody ran for cover sure is the hate
as the large billed crow
called around me what i remember
the three chinese magpies sang my ballad
the satisfaction deepened around drowning out loaded
b.b. pellets of airsoft spraying away semi-automatic
can’t control it & they saw safety in the torn
slit opening the doorway of the chainlinked fence
the shadow of the clouds’ thunder
retreat out of the way of dented walls
my childhood this completing day
recoiling scorn & anger the heart to fight
someone had to suffer someone had to flee
their short unsteady breaths
grabbing onto their own n.y. yankees t-shirts & losing
one of their fake reeboks & sock in the raining
battlefield playground
someone had to trip first & eat it facefirst
seconds to rest & run once more
their flight out the wind-hushed street
where the skin had to be broken 
hines ward jr. lunches at the blue house 2006
a playground in daegu
the wild wild east