Korean American

I met this young man on the plane

A Korean by birth

But American in the main

We spoke a lot

Of everything

And spoke of Korea

Which eased my pain

And if you could meet him

I think to you, I would seem more sane

He said the children of preachers here

To him it seemed were a little but queer

Or did he say they were strange?

Thinking of you, I saw his view

But you’re wonderful

So this gave me pain

Yet it showed me recognition,

It showed me vindication,

It showed me echoed opinion,

And sympatico in frustration

Still it showed me what was plain

It told me that I’m not alone

In sensing your hidden stresses at home

And then he said they want control

And who could blame them,

Who learn that roll?

In Korea he worked

At no school

That treated foreigners by The Rule,

So I thought of you

And how you might think

If you heard him that

I am no fool

Koreans, he said, can’t do it alone

Abused by Japan and China old

He said She’s young

She needs some time;

And those who don’t leave can’t see our mind

He said he could never marry a girl; a girl from Korea, not of the world

So I lamented

As he spoke

‘Clearly he’s smart and honest folk’

And in the end he’d said what they’ve said,

When we come so far;

When we come from the West

We suffer culture shock and stress

He’s had too much

Too well digest

So he needs a break

To see

He needs to see

Like me and you

Like me

Thanks for coming. What do you think?

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