ONE SUMMER DAY
The sun is going down—disappearing like me.
I, holding onto the light,
the last capture of my sight. Soon
my blood will spurt like a burst pipe
over the warm summer field.
The greedy animal will satisfy his thirst.
Go ahead, eat me, eat all of me.
Do not tranquilize me.
Do not close my eyes.
I will watch how you steal my life.
The wind is piercing through me.
I tell you—
I wasn’t even here.
Tanya Hyonhye Ko, MFA candidate at Antioch University Los Angeles, was born and raised in South Korea. She has published two books of poetry and one collection of essays. Her poetry collection, Generation 1.5, is bilingual, Korean and English.
What an extraordinary and vivid poem this is. I love the way it moves through time on the page and in my consciousness differently each time I read it. At first, I’m tempted to take the event literally, but as the poem opens, it reaches into Jungian depths, a soul in conflict with itself, until that very last line–perhaps the greatest of all human fears–to be obliterated and forgotten. Absolutely masterful.
This poem is so like Tanya, throwing herself fully into the experience with complete abandon. It is very visceral, earthy, and heartfelt.
Wonderful, Tanya — such a haunting poem. I’m so glad it’s appearing as Poem of the Month. Many congratulations.
This is fascinating, Tanya. I want to meet you at our next Surfwriters meeting. Would it spoil the poem for you to tell me what you were thinking as you wrote this?