"Search Engine: Notes from the North Korean-Chinese-Russian Border" by Suji Kwock Kim

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend Support Poem-a-Day December 6, 2019   Search Engine: Notes from the North Korean-Chinese-Russian Border   Suji Kwock Kim

By which a strip of land became a hole in time                                                                                      —Durs Grünbein   Grandfather I cannot find, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, what country do you belong to:   where is your body buried, where did your soul go when the road led nowhere?   Grandfather I'll never know, the moment father last saw you rips open a wormhole   that has no end: the hours became years, the years forever: and on the other side   lies a memory of a memory or a dream of a dream of a dream of another life, where what happened   never happened, what cannot come true comes true: and neither erases the other, or the other others,   world after world, to infinity— If only I could cross the border and find you there,   find you anywhere, as if you could tell me who he is, or was,  or might have become:    no bloodshot eyes, or broken bottles, or praying with cracked lips because the past is past and was is not is—   Grandfather, stranger, give me back my father— or not back, not back, give me the father   I might have had:                                  there, in the country that no longer exists, on the other side of the war—            Copyright © 2019 by Suji Kwock Kim. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 6, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets. About this Poem   "My parents and grandparents were all born in what is now North Korea, where part of my family still lives. Their 고향 (gohyang, ancestral home, usually translated as 'hometown'), lies far north, near the North Korean-Chinese-Russian border, which made it difficult for everyone to escape during the Korean War. I've never met my grandfather, and my father last saw his father when he was 10 years old. We're not alone: there are millions of 이산가족 (eesan gajok, 'separated families'), including my father's and mother's families, divided between North and South. You could fill a whole city with separated families, although this number is dwindling, as the elderly pass away." —Suji Kwock Kim   Suji Kwock Kim's next book is Notes from the North (Smith/Doorstop, U.K., 2020), winner of the International Book & Pamphlet Competition. She is a 2019-2020 Poet-in-Residence at the Wordsworth Trust. Poetry by Kim   Notes from the North (Smith/Doorstop, U.K., 2020) "The Sky Over My Mother's House" by Jaime Manrique "in puerto rico we inherit your wars" by Raquel Salas Rivera "Kissing in Vietnamese" by Ocean Vuong December Guest Editor: Paisley Rekdal   Thanks to Paisley Rekdal, author of Nightingale (Copper Canyon Press, 2019), who curated Poem-a-Day for this month's weekdays. Read a Q&A with Rekdal about her curatorial approach this month and find out more about our guest editors for the year. A culture break, a source of daily renewal...   If reading Poem-a-Day has become a meaningful part of your day, please consider supporting this free series with a donation. Your gift makes publishing Poem-a-Day possible. Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org   Unsubscribe here.   © Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038