A Gathering of the Tribes

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Eddie Kim

Leftover Flowers

The wayworn ajumma selling roses in the bar
every night at nine takes one look at me
and keeps combing the crowd. 
I am an internet ad, a face
she has no choice wading through
to get from 3 out of 4 doctors recommend to viral video.
Her arms are full of apologies, cheap love,
and one-night stands, but she makes more
than the orphans selling gum and those who speak with their eyes.
I feel a moment’s relief in being unnoticed.
I take a sip of whiskey and wonder,
what do you do with leftover flowers?

I am searching every drink in the pub for excuses.
An excuse for the wedded woman with two apartments, 
for thinking I’m a nice guy. 
I tell myself, I’m a kindness in an unfortunate nuptial.

I sit at the bar with whiskey stretching my buckle
and spy on the flower ajumma floating from group to group.
I want to call out to her,
say, I’ll take all your maybe tomorrows, tell her, 

I too am for sale. 
But I am a coward. I buy myself an embrace of whiskey. 
We share familiarities.
I tell myself, I’m not the one cheating.

The paramour asks me if I understand
nights of roses and no expectations. She says,
If you were Korean, I wouldn’t ask. You would know.
I’m not sure I know what she means — I don’t know who I am —
but I nod obtusely with a mind full of kept roses.
I wonder who’s taking what from whom. 
I consider our liaison that has known naught
but sake houses and the inside of her car.
She reaches down, seizing what’s left of me — suddenly sober —
showing me her hands have flavor. 
I want to believe what Murakami says is true,
I want to believe perfection can be found 

through the boundless accumulation of faults.
I want to believe in leftover flowers.

Eddie Kim received his MFA in Poetry from the University of Alaska Fairbanks. He is a Kundiman fellow from Seattle. His poems have appeared in Poetry Northwest, The Margins, The Collagist (now The Rupture), Pinwheel, Lantern Review, South Dakota Review, and others. His poem “김장” was a 2022 winner for “Best of the Net,” and his poem “Telephone of the Wind” was featured on Tracy K. Smith's show, The Slowdown. He currently splits time between Glasgow, Scotland and Seattle, WA.