︎
Name
Last Modified


    📁Childhood Home
    📁 Bridge 
    📁 Beverly Blvd
    📁 Pacific Coast Highway
    📁 Inscrutable Mass (Donut)
    📁 Room (Itaewon)
    📁 Soon Chun Hyang Hospital Bus Stop
    📁 Amtrak



  1. Shrinking icicles cling to tree branches. Rivulets of water leave a damp stain on the asphalt. They say this neighborhood will be torn down, the mildew-stained bricks bulldozed over for white granite apartment buildings. I count down the days I have left, the future feels interminable.
  2. You text me, “I sometimes think of driving to your college to see you. 많이 많이 miss you!”
  3. I miss the hideousness of my hometown. Monstrous five lane highways layered with the haze of smog, massive pine tree-green signs pointing for 60 West Los Angeles, left 4 lanes, 57 south Santa Ana, alt 60 West Brea Cyn Rd. We throttle the road at 80 mph. Cars whizz by, the mountains unmoved.
  4. I lay my feet on the dashboard. At night, the broken lines in reflective white paint on the freeway blur into streams. You’ve found a Korean
    church near my college town, but I refuse to get out of the car. We pull out of the parking lot, you say you’re taking me home and never letting me go back to school, I’m becoming too liberated. You lock the door when I try to leave. I slam my feet against the windshield. It cracks. You promise not to tell Dad. I tell you I’m sorry. You take me back to school. We never speak of it again.
  5. The plastered signs on temporary construction site walls as the bus whizzes
    by: 미래의 도시
4/7/2024