by Johannes Goransson on Aug.06, 2012
There’s a couple of Kim Hyesoon poems in the South-Bend/Iran-based journal Paragraphiti.
She arrives. Beating the drum boom boom, she arrives. She arrives pounding the eardrums of the sky. The gate crumbles by itself—maybe she’s carrying thunder in her arms. She arrives. Every step she takes, her heart comes closer to me. My heart beats boom boom. I’ll tear Father’s thick eardrums and go to him. It feels as if I’m stretched out on the sea. She closes the curtain, cuts off the brainwave, smashes a noisy TV station with a hammer. Blood spreads on the pillow. All my cells want to leave me. My heart splits in half like a bolt of lightening. I hurt like the ground hit by a thunderbolt. She arrives. Into my body, she arrives. She’s been walking for seven hours straight. The guard will awaken. Ah! Father’s army will awaken, too…