Jogging, icy streets Recipe for broken bones And statements of rage
It's a chilly day McDonalds won't deliver My life is over
Who needs a sled On a snowy day when you Have a cardboard box?
Dakgalbi is grand But there are times you long for A chimichanga
A figure shambles. It groans. Is it a zombie? No. Friday night drunk.
A million apps And never-ending madness Korean banking
Wheezing up mountain, Passed by gangs of old women. I am young, feeble.