While we were dancing we thought Kim Jong-il
should know we think only of Kim Jong-il.
We keep our elbows on our stomachs and
frown in the springtime sun like Kim Jong-il.
There are two rainbows in a circle.
Perhaps it’s a birthday for Kim Jong-il.
Where are you going with those mustard jars?
We’re not going to throw them at Kim Jong-il.
My grandma plays Scrabble alone in the hall
while I’m making models of Kim Jong-il.
We see footage of the astronaut; if
he slips he will fall into Kim Jong-il.
Who is that lovely boy in a bow-tie?
I blush but he’s looking at Kim Jong-il.
London spreads jam on her toast and shivers.
The figure looks just like a Kim Jong-il.
