i never said the riverside was not dirty

the main culprit cigarette butts

chewed-up 
spit-out 
beetle-nut pulp

a straw

 a fast-food chopstick 

an eggshell shattered

over the ledge 

paper cups

plastic bags scattered

spongy wood bench

to which my shorts are plastered

spat upon by 
some filthy bastard

despite the sign of warnings

of carelessness forbidden

a cement factory processes

 jolts of knocking stone conveyor 

the Han River mill's satanic soundtrack 

added to washboard speed-bump rhythm

slowing no car down or masking the sound

of sputtering motorcycles obnoxious ground

through miles of smog

mountain mortuary giving homage to fog 

pylons like clothesline pins my dream 

modern madman's electrocuted stream

a filthy place, i never denied

as a bug crawls off my pen to hide

a worn-out world superimposed

on the river as sweet as a rose

over which graceful egrets swoop

butterflies flutter, dragonflies zoom

white-tail weeds bend to the moon

in the overdue days of a tiger fall

cool killer breezes covering all

creepy insects ceasing their creeping

ants finding romance out of my pants

lost drifter cycles with pollution so vile

as the Han River recovers its beauty

for a while

11-20-15