The following is a poem I wrote while in Busan, Korea.
travel the world, my friend, and you will see
confused, alone you will often be
the roads, signs marked with tales
obscured under fluorescent strain
the markets brimming with pride
sweaty and dirty with mastery
eager, too, the felines and canines
shouting their story with fervor
the streets are full of know-wheres
they know where it is,
they know where they are,
they know where to go,
they know where it’s not far.
but, a know-where you are not
that just isn’t your story
your thoughts full, perplexing
what buildings are these?
I do not know, for you and I
we share dilemmas so true
below you and ahead and back
bot don’t worry, my friend, you’ll see
a know-where isn’t everything to be
eight − 4 =