Aser Peleg – Micro-Prose Poem


Leaning against a BRIC mall that also functions as a fallout shelter, minding my own BlackBerry business on a congested Neverending Sidewalk, caught, in the middle of a contentious rally to free Bradley Manning, near United Nada Plaza, an anonymous Hipster Squatter approaches and asks if I’d don Pink Phylacteries. It wasn’t the darker shade of my aura or Babylonian accent that repelled him, but my sodden hesitation. That is the nature of Seoul-ties in exile. How Angels of Sodom set themselves free from bondage, then just as quickly vanish, like Amber Abductions.