Poems by Sewell
By Sewell Hong
We’ve tried the bed,
the sofa and chairs,
and every other corner around the flat,
including the wooden floor and the woollen carpet,
even the kitchen table and the bathtub,
but still fail to find a place
where the wifi connection is good.
Drowned in river
water above head
yelling for help I held out one hand
pedestrians queued up to give me a high five.
I hung myself
About to die.
They assumed me playing on a goddamned swing.