Gwangju Writes: Ways of Looking at a Choco Pie

Fog, above a sloping hill of rice

sheared off at the sides

by its plastic container.

And beside it, against the yellow checkered wall

a crisp red box of choco pies.

 

I was of two minds,

whether

to eat just one, or two.  The choco pie,

dessert’s best dessert.

 

On the grey lacquered plate

crumbs of choco

pie mix with shards of dry carrot.

The last remains of lunch.

 

A man seeking to be one

with a woman

would do well to bring

a choco pie.  Just one.

A box would be desperate.

 

I wonder which is better

sleeping undisturbed

or waking up, then realizing it is early yet

and slowly falling back to sleep,

eating all of a choco pie

or taking two bites, then realizing

there is still some left to be eaten.

 

In the icy wastes

of the barbaric north, fifty large balloons

full of ten thousand choco pies

slowly descend to earth, in defiance

of the dictator’s ban.

 

Thin men of the North,

enjoy the bounty of your brethren

in the South.  See, it lies

in piles at your feet.

Throw down your arms and reap