poem: 미국 사람, 한국 사람 (or, No More Dream)

the girl knows oppa and saranghae

but if you showed it to her, like: 오빠 or 사랑해

she would not know how to make those odd

lines of man, earth, sky

into the bright music that she sings in the dark.

She knows 김

is said as “Kim,” because

it’s the beginning part to names like Kim Seokjin

and Kim Jongdae. She knows her boys are dying,

their muscles shrunk to lean dreams, their smiles

camera-crafted and too-cute, good enough for the screaming

girls, but not enough to keep out the hate

and desperation that comes at 3 a.m. when you have been in the studio

for seven hours and there’s two variety shows

scheduled too soon. It is still a dream, though,

isn’t it? After all, who am I

to judge if the 미국 소녀

whispering oppa is enough to keep

the boy on the other side of the ocean

alive?

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