“Gasoline” by Heo Yeong-Ja
I want to be a woman like gasoline. Have a light soul to avoid feeling rainbows, both warm and dangerous, a combustible chest– pure volatility, full-aged, leaving no residue of regret or grudges. I want...
Korean Literature in Translation
I want to be a woman like gasoline. Have a light soul to avoid feeling rainbows, both warm and dangerous, a combustible chest– pure volatility, full-aged, leaving no residue of regret or grudges. I want...
Like cool fresh water gushing up through cracks between rocks, like deep blue-green onion stalks lifting heads through snow-covered ground, both so clear and so pungent. 돌틈에서 솟아나는 싸늘한 샘물처럼 눈밭에 고개드는 새파란 팟종처럼...
1 I turned down a village side street and apples hanging clung close to my steps like fire. Because I’m poor, I knew well that touching someone else’s thingsis a bad habit, but… I wanted...
by Jibril · Published Monday, December 16th, 2013 · Last modified Saturday, December 10th, 2016
I like you. Every night as the stars come out, I’m reminded of your face. On this night, too, I’m watching the stars. Following one, I see your face. Among the many, at times all...
Settled for a moment in the place they came to rest, the seeds buried themselves. Knowing the course of water flowing to my body, they did not fall but caught the earthy scent of a...
I had gone to school to take final exams, but a gorilla was gobbling up the classroom like a cookie. Next to the gorilla, a goat stood finishing up the test papers. In the gym,...
by Jibril · Published Wednesday, November 20th, 2013 · Last modified Tuesday, August 9th, 2016
Spring, midday. Opening the air’s drawer, I smell the scent of new life. Warmed alcohol, sunlight fallen between dew, and as we walk, us, trying to speak only words with lips. We blow our horns...
by Jibril · Published Sunday, November 17th, 2013 · Last modified Friday, February 5th, 2021
Beneath a circle cut out of the darkness under a stand of light, you too wonder, like a passing dream, if you’ve ever received one. Then say, “Let’s write old-fashioned love letters.” What can I...
by Jibril · Published Wednesday, November 13th, 2013 · Last modified Wednesday, December 27th, 2017
When he got home he would take out his teeth. Smiling toothlessly into the mirror, he would lay them down in a cup in the bathroom. When morning came, he would put them back in...