By Marie Kulik
When I look down from the rooftops, I see people. If you’ve never looked down at this city from a rooftop, I suggest that you find yourself a service stairwell and head up it double step. Have you ever wanted to shoot a snow monkey out of a cannon and down into the groups on the sidewalk below? I have. More than once.
Instead of launching primates and laughing hysterically, I’ve written.
From a Perch in Gangnam
Oh where do you fall, pale girl?
Objecting much to me perching here,
above your doors.
I’ll chill for a while in your patch.
Snowy, I know,
I’ve walked from Oksu.
Watching you cry,
‘can’t help notice you’re nineteenish,
You joined the ranks four years back? Yes, I’m cold too.
Don’t die inside.
If you must, die clean.
Sadly, we both know otherwise.
Do you have any poppies,
…are there even poppies here?
Do you still feel the white fading in?
Nice legs
Do you talk to your father?
Presumably that’s how it started.
Who’d you leave behind?
I realise, loyalty goes a long way when being beaten with a dildo
Do you take names, smells perhaps?
Stand and deliver my sweet, to the sound of a lubricated thud
We know you would fight back,
but isn’t a roof great in the snow?
Curious, but shitty,
hmm, here’s $2000.
I want a smoke.
Buy a gun and a train ticket and go
Run like fuck dear lady.
