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By Janice Lee es, poems are ways of saying you clearly remember the day of your death and your tomb. When I am writing poetry, I relive my days when a woman inside me dies many times. My body is full of graves. A sepulcher is dug up, and a young girl comes out of it with her dusty hands in tears. A lady who is a young girl and an old girl at the same time feels the presence of the young girl. I feel that the 15-year-old me and the 50-year-old me come out of the sepulcher through an illegal excavation. Time is not a straight line, but just a flat hell, like a desert. I am a tomb robber who is robbing my own tomb. Things from my tomb are exhibited under the radiant sun. Every time it happens I feel crude. --KIM HYESOON The photos, like fragments, call out to disclose an essence that may have never existed. The refusal becomes aware of its own refusal and becomes complacency becomes condemnation. Suddenly one Azalea has the right eyes. (Rilke) It is through a process of mourning, for example, that we can see. Through a
Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture – University of Hawai'I Press
Published: Apr 22, 2014
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