Tuesday, February 22, 2011

love, korea

1.
over cigarettes
we raise our arms but never our voices.
we show to tell
he waving the words of our two languages towards me
and nay, i understand.


2. our mother

today i watched her anger
rise like the quickest sound
the melody struck her foot, a blue bruise emerged
and so she threatened
violence, two hands high and her voice.
my niece with eyes wide, palms flat over face
my nephew watches silently
she spends
her last puff of rage on the baby
a plastic swat to the face.

her love, misdirected on me
these 25 years later is lost.
i, who don't know how
but these children will spend a lifetime
remembering
a grandmother who hated them so
stuffing a stranger's adult mouth with rice, with
kindness that spills over
red spicy stain
that stays
on the lips and skin.

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