The 3rd Poem

By | 13 May 2024

(for Sin Yong-Mok)

Cross-cultural implies there are cultures
to cross. There are bodies and languages

sure, but cultures? What is so innately different
between kimchi and vegemite

these things one eats, then one forgets about
as they’re transformed into a dark universal paste

in one’s stomach? Identity was always
an object of false consciousness, comrade

propped up by the true parasites to prevent
us from uniting (to lose our shackles) and so

there’s nothing innately different between
Squid Game and Mad Max: moving images

that depict the horror of the contemporary either
in Seoul or in the Aussie outback. If

there’s something to cross it’s what we assume
separates us, not what separates us. Let’s

assume better. Let’s assume we can unite (act as
if) we can defeat the horrors, or outdo them

by becoming a dark universal entity
beyond culture and identity. Then there’ll be

truths other than the facts of languages
and bodies, vegemite and kimchi, cultures and crosses.

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