ryan quinn flanagan | seoul searching

Seoul Searching

She closes her eyes
and spins the globe.


Her finger lands somewhere
in Africa.


Again!, I say


She spins the world wildly
off its axis
like a giggling cosmic child-god
at play.


Chasing it on all fours
as it rolls across the floor.


Dammit, Brazil!,
she laughs


Seoul is hard to find, I say,
chewing lemon candy from the neck
of a Star Wars pez dispenser.


Snowed in three days
we make our own fun.


I am a fascist
I am a muralist
I am a feminist


I make a statement…


Burning her favourite bra
while she’s in the
bathroom.

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