Daegu, day twoAt the exit to the basement bar a blond boy was waiting. So we let them go, took off instead with a pack of strangers towards the corner store. We ransacked the place, leaving nothing left wanted: soju, soda, beer, chips, cigarettes, and a Hello Kitty contact carrier.
Three a.m. and fourteen dollars later, we eyed pages of top forty hits. Raining men and Rolling Stones, he kept shouting for a duet. Being the best Back Street Boys we could, told the room to quit playing games with our hearts.
Four a.m. she came back, safe for the first hour of free song time given to the last to stay singing. Poured the bottle bottoms into paper cups and wandered into black breaking blue skies.
The hunger. Breakfast burrito McDonalds in the city centre. She slipped her smile into Burger King just as my bills closed the register. Some change of heart, she said, asked for fries and a soda. They all followed, zoo animals watching the warm gold light whisper through the lock of closed take-out.
Mine was the last they’d agree to process. Itching bellies we parted ways, me sloppy with the ketchup. Like the arcade games we’d earlier slipped so many coins into, our night read two words: Game Over.
