Ah, I was so idealistic. Once. *Sniff*. Young Asian In Love And In Motion there's barely enuf time to strap on those leather boots and swing your arms in that dark peacoat, leave the buttons undone and wrap the straps around loose while we open the door to city lights, cars that cough one eyed like pirates locked on land we need to move we need to move before we get stiff like jello in the icebox, can't get cold, can't congeal, we need the motion we need the motion even this far from the ocean and on the 21 someone leans over whispers deep in my ear there's no sex like wander lust. we can't be far now, we only just started to smoke, the lighter flame can stand up to the wind and highlight our skin young yellow and perilous and float through the city like the glaciers did, cut this muthafucka up, carve these twin cities a new river so we can flow like frozen phantom ships in the fog under street lamps whose bulbs need replacing SO WHAT if it snows in march, this is not my room where the most consistant love is a space heater and the peaches in heavy syrup demand romance while we shy away from the sharp edges of the can we just need to move, you can't freeze and be in motion at the same time so we got to scissor kick through the streets till we find a shore and keep from drowning so fuck uptown fuck downtown and god knows fuck st paul leave those white scenesters behind who have adopted someone else's revolution, they're no better than Disney dizzy with their own special effects and drunk off acuumba matata skimmed and trimmed down like Pocahontas and leaving bare bones the last place they swarmed fuck them. Please. Bilingual fellow yellow sister this may be just one night when we're out and about skimming the land of a thousand lakes with no ice skates, one night where we avoid point: once upon a time to point: happily ever after, one night where we are not prey to soda commercials soloflex or buns of steel, maybe just maybe this is one poem that doesn't need to be written cuz it's happening right now right here as we speak its throwing sparks in the dark we don't have a spare minute to write down the details this world this life is holding on to our shirttails we can write it down next time, we got sequel. 1997

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