Author Archives: pk

exuent

for 12 months he wondered
how he would be remembered.
he toiled away hoping
for nice things people might say.

***

now it’s finally all over,
and he reminds himself
to brush his teeth
before going to bed.

sleepless… in seattle?

it was raining again today, prompting me to invoke the cliche – april showers bring may flowers. this got me into wondering if the name ‘Mayflower’ was derived from associating flowers with the month of May, or perhaps Mayflower is the name of some sort of flower already in existence, but it would be because it blooms in May, right? all this Mayflowering got me curious about pilgrims and why they called their ship such a name (why not Jesus Boat or God’s Cruise?). but then i wondered about history and if my elementary-school knowledge of pilgrims was just one of those things that reflects my ignorance and acceptance of american propaganda myths (like pilgrims and indians got along and had an awesome thanksgiving dinner together).

i read part of a book for my history research paper today – charles bowers’s tragic era. it was an amusing experience because i had never really taken the time to look at historiographical works of the earlier 20th century (having been only exposed to post-revisionist or post-post-revisionist works of the last thirty years). it was striking how much, at least from my 21st century point of view, bowers interlaced his racial prejudices into the book while following all the methods and craft of a historian. casting the newly freedmen as “unwilling to work” and “lazy,” bowers even makes the argument that the Black Codes were “reasonable, objective” efforts to “restore order in the South.” the way he was so vivide about the “Congo crowd” and their inability to function without a subservient role in society definitely made me wonder about the process of writing history and all the prejudices of the time that go with it. it also helped me to see the malleability of primary sources. while walking home from the library, i thought what sort of prejudices pervaded our writings today and in what ways, many years from now, we would look on today’s works and raise eyebrows at the outdated ideas. i also wondered how a black person reading bowers’s book may have felt.

walking to work today in the rain, i was in a pleasant mood, almost to the point of enjoying the weather. i had my bright blue raincoat on to keep me dry, and listening to the constant tapping of the raindrops on my hood induced a pleasing sensation. i then wondered if it was like this all the time in seattle, because i heard it rains there often. and then i remembered someone telling me about seattle and how it has a coffee shop on every corner. while new york probably offers just as many or even more coffee shops, i actually took a few moments on my outdoor walk to imagine myself in seattle, perhaps working for microsoft. would i still read the new york times there, or would i have to settle for a lesser local paper? then i realized i could maybe work for starbucks at their corporate headquarters and never have to pay for coffee again. and it struck me that being “sleepless in seattle” may be due to overconsumption of caffeine, which the city is well known for. caffe skim latte for life.

i’m beginning to notice my own stench that fills my room. wook said it was a mixture of coffee beans and “man,” but i’m beginning to think it’s the pair of jeans i haven’t washed in four months. now, that’s pretty disgusting.

4-minute shower. some british lit. gonna bust a bag of dunkin donuts original flavor coffee beans. don’t want to miss french again.

-pk

pk lament aria

brief synposis leading up this aria: peter kang, a college student, is working on his music hum concert report, a six-page paper that is due the next day. he realizes that he has nothing intelligent to say about the opera he saw a week ago. after agonizing for over five hours in front of the computer, he feels compelled to take his own life. therefore, an aria before the act.

PK
Thy keys, computer, blankness tires me,
On thy screen no words exist,
Try I would, but Death invades me;
Death is now a likely choice.
When I am found breathless,
May my teacher say
‘Perhaps six was too much’;
Remember me, but man! forget my grades.