Ignited
by Yung Seoul Kim

Rain that lasts             over four years, she says.
He responds, Women so beautiful             they cause death.

Approximating Gabriel Garcia Márquez, his elaborate name
Turns. Creates its own climate, a sudden poem, consecrated

In a name. The sound of it ignites
A second awareness    mysterious as air.

Footprints in the sands of coastal Colombia mark

The weight of a life lived        inside the heat
Of a local memory: pivots accurate          near the spill of sunlight.

The report of his name moves impeccable, alternating
Underneath a barrier reef    left behind    in a pearled

Water. This terra cotta landscape moves slow,
Svelting itself into an intensity and an intuition.

A Gabriel Garcia Márquez for her, Northernized.

Though his own name rings sprung and solid,
Simple and sedate as white linen    spread flat.

Modest monosyllables. No ceremony here.
Of Gabriel’s name or a stunned envy

Either. He walks territory clear    and honest

Through the open field on a western ranch.
This is where he grew up: loitering in his imagination, running

Vast and wild.      Making Super 8s, honing in on the emotional
Intelligence of the horses and land. During the days

She can hear his boots, the sling of mud, knotted
Lasso for saving wayward cattle, his rough

Laugh. Private, away from the tropics and grenadine
Lush of South America, the equatorial remains

Ransomed to the North. He tells her that he’s
From several places of invasion: Scotland, Ireland, Russia, and

Mongolia, allegedly, seventeen generations removed.
Understood. Welcome, then

To the world, ignited.

Where the women                     remain beautiful, he says.
She responds, Where the rain lasts         over four years.

© 2008 prickofthespindle.com