The End of a Nation

---------------Marfa, Texas
30.3095 north

On July 2, 2018, my flight took me to Marfa, Texas—not my usual migratory route. Nevertheless, during my brief stay, I was able to meet swallows and sparrows, and I observed other exceptional migratory wings from Mexico. Some small-winged children were captured and separated from their parents and placed in internment camps along the border of Texas, US and Mexico. Who will translate their wings? Whenever my ears would let me, I looked up at the night skies in order to track Planet Nine. Being the compulsive translator that I am, I traced and traced the planet’s orbitary routes, its rotations of capture, torture, and massacre. The universe is such a dizzying place that my ears were spinning out of control. Planet Nine! Come in, Planet Nine!

The language of capture, torture, and massacre is difficult to decipher. It’s practically a foreign language. What a nightmare! But as a foreigner myself, I am able to detect the slightest flicker of palpitations and pain. Difficult syntax! It may show up as faint dots and lines, but they’re often blood, snow, and even dandruff. How do I know? Foreigners know. Ahn-Kim calmly narrated as she continued to circle and circle Planet Nine with her pen. Her circles were extraordinary.

Untitled [1950 June 27]

1950 June 27: my father heard the sound of the engine of a North Korean fighter plane, Yak-9. Foremostly and therefore barely consequently in the highest manner, he followed the sound, running towards the city hall. After all it was hardly war. Yak-9, made in Russia, flew over the plaza of the city hall. Then in the most lowly predictably ethically unsound manner from the point of view of everything that is big and beautiful, the sound of the machine gun. He missed the chance to capture the Yak-9 with his camera. That late afternoon the yet-to-be nation’s newspapers were in print, but no photos of the war appeared in any of them. After all it was hardly war, the hardliest of wars, neverthelessly Yak. And it turns out that one thing is better than another. Hence still going forward, napalm again. Always moving up to Choson Reservoir. Always another hill, for in no circumstance can man be comfortable without art. Why that is so has nothing to do with the big problem—what to do with the orphan kids. And always the poor hungry kids. Now look at this and look at it and look at it. This is what the Republic of Korea is fighting for—miles and miles and miles of order words that are given in our society. Merry Christmas, Joe! Phosphorous and flamethrowers. Fire them up!—burn them!—cook them! Beauty is pleasure regarded as the quality of a thing from the point of view of everything that is big and beautiful in the highest manner possible and why that is so has nothing to do with hills and more hills, rivers and more rivers, and rice paddies and more rice paddies. How cold does it get in Korea? Brass monkey cold.

from “Twin Flower, Master, Emily”

Dear Emily,

For poetry – I have you. One need not be a House – One need not be a Nation or a Master for that matter. Delicate and beautiful, common in rich mossy woods, in pairs, we live. We are crimson-pink, particularly in the mountains. The rough terrain is not visible to many, but somewhat green and fatigued, demilitarized! A nod from far away is hollow. True men – How shall I greet them? Nation building is kind and generous. It is common to decline it. Emily, Shall I – bloom?

Yours, Twin Flower   

from “Hardly Opera”

—tête-à-tête of flowers—

(still at the ambassador’s garden party in the middle of Seoul)

ROSE OF SHARON

How do you do
Mr. Ambassador?

 

DECLASSIFIED FLOWER

How do you do?
Modern style?
I do

AZALEA

Overly ovaries!
General Kim
How do you do?

 

ROSE OF SHARON

One shot!
No spots!
How many baby azaleas?

UPI FLOWER

Did something happen?
The world wants to know

 

ROSE OF SHARON

Syngman Rhee has left for Hawaii
Modern style of course!

UPI FLOWER

Do petals fall and bloom again?

 

UGLY FLOWER

Tell the world
We want
Coty powder!

CHERRY BLOSSOMS

O totally tether!
Does it tatter?

 

CLASSIFIED FLOWERS

O patter matter!
Do you batter?

BABY AZALEAS

O Coty potty!
Hoity naughty

 

FORSYTHIAS

O pat her met her!
Does she natter?

ROSE OF SHARON

I’d rather batter

 

BLUE HYDRANGEAS

Yes, ma’am


—end of tête-à-tête—