Poem by Koon Woon

Admission

 

I did OK with the common parlance.

Even when the odds were not good,

I came through the cracks and creases

Of the notebook sheet, bleeding my way

To the center, though the center itself cannot hold.

 

Tiny birds chirp, on phone wires they balance

The speech of lovers on calls from the

On the other side of the world. But con men are

Fixing the slaughter of the victim’s house with

Promises, promises when no one has a palpable heart.

 

At least I don’t bullshit you, I can only do until

You take over the burden of words, because I have

Told you I am not the best. The best is hidden, camouflaged

In a patch of weed, while neglected wildflowers in

The city ravines, peeking from clumps of rocks.

 

I won’t deny I own no tuxedo though my cat

Tuxie did and wore it all day long. Tuxie is

Gone, along with happy youth.

Now springtime brings so many flowers in foliage.

Winter is just the opposite. You will know what I know.

 

 

-         Koon Woon

April 9, 2026