like a murder suicide yesterday’s tiffs
became today’s shower of glacial regret
hit on the head by super large moriapo*†

left winded bruised & read-dead on our
set-list stories of lost orders events
tragedies that come in threes like the

drinks the straws (deadly for dolphins
the lipstick trace a circular argument
nobody heard a thing (or suspected yet

there it is: an empty office & a drill
draw your conclusions or bite your lip
sure of what you’re about to say (next

thing you know there’s a glass in your
hand & tears beside the water fountain

*trans: hangover (Korean)

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