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I spent most of college

studying

                  reading

                                  writing

                                                  poetry

and all I have to show for it

is this page

i have this little dog

named rosa

everyday i wake up

and i love her

alex tells me: “maybe if

you learned to love yourself

a fraction as much,

you’d be happy”

happy people do not make

good poets

good musicians

good koreans

and besides,

i cannot learn

what they

do not teach

there is no philosophy

sweeter than the curls

of harmonies between

the five, six, seven,

eighteen, three hundred,

five and a half million,

eight billion breaths

it is autumn in los angeles

bright and sunny


i read mary oliver on the porch

i stare at the hills and think


of that silver woman

in her golden years


pressing pearls on the page

fixing diamond thoughts in wood


will i ever be that wise

that elegant?


in my mind i am

forever just a child.


the grace of our mothers

and our grandmothers


more radiant than jewels

more shimmering than metals


it is perhaps like the autumn sun

in los angeles

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